


The Month of Marriage.

by CupCakezys



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Arranged Marriage, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon Returns (Merlin), BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Boys In Love, Canon Era, Canon-Typical Violence, Court Sorcerer Merlin (Merlin), Disabled Arthur Pendragon, Disabled Character, Domestic Fluff, Dragon Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Drinking, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Good Mordred (Merlin), Good Morgana (Merlin), Idiots in Love, Immortal Merlin (Merlin), Implied Mpreg, Jealous Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), King Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), King Merlin (Merlin), M/M, Magic Revealed, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Married Couple, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Mpreg, Parent Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Parent Merlin (Merlin), Pirates, Polyamory, Powerful Merlin (Merlin), Prince Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Prince Merlin (Merlin), Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Protective Merlin (Merlin), Reincarnation, Romantic Fluff, Royal Merlin (Merlin), Self Confidence Issues, Soul Bond, Temporary Character Death, Violence, oneshots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2020-11-08 05:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 63,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20829803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupCakezys/pseuds/CupCakezys
Summary: This is a collection of oneshots forMarry Merthur Month, coupled with lefayart'sMerlin Inktoberprompts. So if you want to see our favourite idiots tie the knot in as many different ways as possible, come on and enjoy the ride.





	1. Day One: Sword in the Stone.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the first part of this series of oneshots. :) I'm hoping to upload one everyday, forgive me if I miss a day here and there, life is busy. 
> 
> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, King Arthur Pendragon, Court Sorcerer Merlin, Arthur knows about Merlin's magic, marriage proposal, self-confidence issues.

“This is ridiculous Merlin. I can’t do this.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, even as a smile tugged at his lips. “Yes you can. You’re just nervous.”

“King’s don’t get nervous.” Arthur snapped back, automatic and without any heat.

Merlin sighed. “Arthur.”

He turned to look out at the glade they had finally found. It was beautiful – truly something magical, as if the buzzing of wild magic around him wasn’t enough. Merlin sighed and let his own magic loose to mingle with the wild magic in the air. A gentle wind blew between the trees, rushing out into the glade and towards the sliver of lake Merlin could see from where they were standing. His magic ran with it, and flowers bloomed everywhere it touched, bright red and beautiful. They extended over the little hill and down towards the lakeside.

There, Merlin finally caught a flash of their prize; the briefest glint of metal in the sun.

Arthur had seen it too, Merlin knew. He’d gone tense beside him, emotions expertly hidden but clear for Merlin to see. He turned his full attention to his king, smiling lightly when Arthur instantly turned to him.

He took both of Arthur’s hands in his own and squeezed lightly. “When the sword was thrust into the stone, the ancient king foretold that one day it would be freed again at a time when Camelot needed it most.”

Arthur huffed and rolled his eyes. “I know the story Merlin. I was there when the druid told us as well, you know.”

Merlin squeezed his hands again, silencing him. “It was said that the man who freed it would unite the land of Albion and rule over the greatest kingdom the world has ever known. “ He paused, looked deep into Arthur’s eyes. “That man is you, Arthur.”

Arthur gulped, his eyes shooting over to the glint of the sword before focusing back on Merlin. “You have so much faith in me.”

Merlin smiled and let go of one of Arthur’s hands in order to cup his cheek. “You deserve it.”

Arthur’s smile was small, and disappeared quickly. “What if I don’t? How can I possibly be good enough for a legend like this one Merlin?” His shoulders slumped, and Merlin wanted nothing more than to wrap him up in his arms. Or to slap some sense into him. “I’m only one man.”

“You, King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot, are an idiot.” Arthur spluttered and Merlin smiled, then leaned in until their foreheads touched. “You are a fair and just king, and a good and kind man. Your people adore you, your knights would lay down their lives for you, and the other kings and queens respect you. _You_ are the Once and Future King; you will pull that sword from the stone, and you will prove to everyone – including yourself – that you are worthy of the crown of Albion.”

Arthur’s eyes were blown wide open, a small flush of embarrassment on his cheeks. Merlin’s eyes dropped to Arthur’s lips – an inevitability when they were this close. Arthur closed his eyes and leaned into him, his doubts melting away with his tension.

Arthur pressed a quick kiss to his lips, then another, and another, until Merlin was giggling between kisses.

Arthur drew back, a smile on his face. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Merlin said, grinning dopily.

Arthur took his hand and intwined their fingers. Together, they made their way down the slope and towards the lake. Merlin ran his hands through the flowers his magic had bloomed, smiling softly at the tingle of _life_ up his arm.

They stopped by the water of the lake, the sword and its stone looming in front of them. It was a beautiful sword, shining and golden in the late afternoon sun. Merlin could see runes etched into the side, though he couldn’t quite make them out yet, half buried as they were. Magic seemed to pulse from it on waves, a power far greater than Merlin had felt from anything else before. It made his breath catch in his throat.

Arthur squeezed his hand, once, then let go. Merlin stood still as Arthur stepped into the rock and rested a hand gently on the swords’ hilt.

He glanced back at Merlin, tight lipped. “Will you use your magic, if I can’t pull it out?”

“I won’t need to.” Merlin said instantly, confidently.

Arthur smiled, that soft smile Merlin loved so much, and turned back to the sword. He gripped it tight with one hand, and Merlin could read the determination in every line of his body.

“Believe in yourself.” He murmured.

Arthur grunted, muscles straining as he pulled at the sword. Merlin watched with bated breath as he pulled, and for a moment he thought the druids had lied, that the legends weren’t true, that Arthur would think himself a failure when he was anything but-

And then a loud scraping noise filled the air, and Merlin watched in awe as Arthur smoothly pulled the legendary sword free of the stone. He held it up to the sky, both him and the sword golden and shining.

Merlin fell to his knees in an instant. “My King.”

There was a moment of silence, of utter stillness, and then Arthur was on his knees next to him, the sword still held tightly in one of his hands. His other hand reached up and grabbed at the back of Merlin’s head, pulling him forward and into a desperate kiss.

“Marry me.” Arthur whispered into his lips, and Merlin froze.

Then it was his turn to surge forward and bombard Arthur with kisses, breathing his answer into every press of their lips.

“Yes.”


	2. Day Two: Constellations.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, King Arthur Pendragon, Arthur knows about Merlin's magic, powerful Merlin, fluff (like, a lot. That's all it is, really).

The stars were beautiful that night. They shone like diamonds, brighter than the jewels on his crown, brighter than he’d ever seen them before. Merlin would say it was fitting, no doubt, the utter _girl_. Arthur snorted at the thought.

As if summoned by Arthur’s thoughts, Merlin appeared behind him, regal looking in his deep blue cape and golden crown. Arthur felt his cheeks flush as he turned back to the stars. Merlin moved to stand next to him, one hand on the window as he looked out.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen the stars shine this bright.” Merlin murmured.

“Me neither.” Arthur whispered, hardly daring to breathe.

Merlin smiled at him, the stars in his eyes. “Maybe it’s a sign.”

Arthur laughed lightly. He couldn’t help it – he was just too predictable. “Girl.”

“Ass.” Merlin shot back affectionately. “Can’t even be nice on our wedding day.”

Arthur laughed again and wrapped an arm around Merlin’s waist, pulling him against his side. “Just because we’re married now doesn’t mean I’m going to be _nice_. What would the people think?”

Merlin giggled and leaned into him more. “Well, in that case, don’t expect me to be nice to you either. Your head is already too big.”

Arthur made an affronted noise as Merlin dissolved into laughter at his own cleverness. Arthur melted at the sound, but he couldn’t let Merlin know that, so he distracted the both of them with a kiss. Merlin sighed and deepened it, pressing Arthur up against the wall.

They let the kiss drag out, time standing still under the starlight, until Merlin pulled back and rested his chin on Arthur’s shoulder.

“What do you see?” Arthur asked, eyes on the stars once more.

Merlin hummed. “Stars. Lots of bright, shining stars.”

“No, you idiot.” Arthur snorted, leaning the side of his head on the window. “What constellations?”

Merlin shifted so he could see outside the window again. “I don’t know any constellations.” Arthur hummed. Merlin grinned, mischievous and eager. “Let’s make up our own.”

“That is a horrible idea.” Arthur said, deadpan.

Merlin pointed out at the stars. “I see a bird.”

Arthur snorted. “There aren’t any bird constellations _Mer_lin.”

Merlin grabbed his chin, gently pushed him to look. “Is so. It’s right there, see?”

Arthur looked, and to his astonishment there was a bird – a little merlin, made up of the brightest stars in the sky. It made Arthur’s jaw drop. It hadn’t been there before.

“That’s impossible.” He whispered, looked at the gold fading from Merlin’s eyes. “Did you do that?”

Merlin smiled secretly and tapped his finger to Arthur’s lips. Arthur kissed it, full of awe and love for this incredible, impossible man. His husband.

Someone cleared their throat pointedly behind them, and they both slowly turned their heads towards the sound. Merlin’s finger dropped from his lips to his hand, intertwining their fingers tightly. Arthur leaned his head on Merlin’s chest as he eyed Leon. His knight offered them a regretful smile.

“I’m sorry sires, but people are starting to wonder where you’ve gotten to.” He said.

Arthur sighed. “It’s our wedding feast. Surely we’re allowed some time to ourselves.”

“If only.” Merlin said wistfully. “You nobles have far too many rules.”

“They’re your rules too now, remember? _King_ Merlin?” Arthur said.

Merlin groaned and pulled away from him, turning pleading eyes to Leon. “I can fix that, right? It’s not too late, is it?”

Leon simply shook his head. “You’ve already said your vows Merlin.”

Merlin’s eyes widened in mock despair. Leon chuckled and ruffled his hair, which in turn almost sent his crown flying. Merlin squawked and grabbed at it, holding it in place. Arthur laughed as he pushed past the both of them, tugging slightly on Merlin’s hand.

“Come on then.” He said. “Let’s get back to them.”

Merlin smiled and followed, Leon close behind. Arthur spared one more glance at the stars, as bright and beautiful as before, the merlin constellation standing out against the rest of the stars. For a moment it felt like the stars themselves were celebrating his marriage, and he swore he saw his name up there, right beside Merlin’s.

Then he turned and led his husband back to their wedding celebrations.


	3. Day Three: Tavern.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, King Arthur Pendragon, Arthur knows about Merlin's magic, alcohol.   
Other pairings: Lancelot/Gwen, Gwaine/Percival, Leon/Morgana.

Merlin laughed as Gwaine dragged him along the streets of the lower town. Gwaine stumbled and almost tumbled them both, their steps unsteady from all the drinks they’d had earlier. Gwaine laughed and rightened himself, an arm slung over Merlin’s shoulder.

“Merlin.” He slurred. “Merlin, my friend. We need to find somewhere else to get our mead.”

Merlin giggled drunkenly. “I don’t think…” He hiccupped. “I don’t think anywhere else will let us in. Not after we got told to leave the last two.”

Gwaine waved his hand, narrowly missing smacking them both in the face. “No- non- no-“

Merlin laughed. He’d never heard his friend stumble over his words before. Normally that was Gwen. Gwaine was the one that flirted with anything that talked, that was as good with his words as he was with his sword.

Clearly, drunk Gwaine was a completely different person.

“Nonsense.” Merlin said, because he was a good friend and Gwaine wasn’t going to get it any time soon.

Gwaine slapped Merlin’s chest. “Exactly! They’ll let us in.”

“How can you be sure?” Merlin asked, doubtful.

They _had_ drunk a lot already. They were far more likely to be kicked out on their asses, in Merlin’s humble opinion. He rubbed at his chest, willing the faint stinging away.

“Are you serious?” Gwaine asked, incredulous. “You’re the King’s consort! You’re _marrying _the man tomorrow, damnit! Not only that, but you’re the greatest sorcerer ever. No one’s going to kick you out! In fact, I’ll be surprised if they don’t bring out a red carpet for you.”

Merlin groaned. “They better not.”

Gwaine nodded seriously. “Maybe not.”

Merlin stumbled again. Stupid moving ground.

“Merlin.” Gwaine whined, pulling Merlin’s attention back to him. “Merlin, you’re getting married tomorrow.”

Merlin thought of Arthur, up in his – _their_ – bedroom, working on laws and reports long into the night, even after he’d told Merlin to go out and enjoy his night. Warmth flooded his chest. Arthur had grown so much in the years that Merlin had known him, and the king that used to rarely show through the prat now shined clearly. It was one of the reasons he loved him so much.

“I am.” He smiled happily, a fuzzy feeling bubbling up and making his eyes water. “Oh Goddess, Gwaine I’m getting married tomorrow!”

Gwaine immediately looked concerned. “Having second thoughts?”

“No!” Merlin yelled, louder than he meant to. “No, I just- I never thought I _would_\- you know?”

Gwaine nodded wisely. “I won’t get married.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow, or at least he tried to. “Percival will be so disappointed.”

Gwaine choked and went bright red – less subtle than Merlin had ever been. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Merlin laughed loudly.

“You like him.” He teased. “And he likes you.”

Gwaine shoved him, making him stumble and almost collapse onto the ground. He laughed again, loud in the quiet of the night. He closed his eyes, just for a moment, and then a rough had tussled his hair. He spluttered and stumbled away, eyes going wide and happy when he saw who it was.

“Leon!” He yelled, grinning madly. “Lancelot! What are you doing here?”

Lancelot smiled. “Looking for you two.”

Gwaine squeaked. “Whatever happened, it wasn’t my fault. It was all Merlin!”

“Hey!” Merlin yelled, affronted. That didn’t sound right. “It wasn’t my fault!”

“That’s because neither of you have done anything.” Leon rolled his eyes. “Arthur said you were roaming the taverns with Gwaine. We thought we’d join you.”

Gwaine instantly perked up. “You’re drinking? But you never drink!”

“I do!” Leon huffed.

“Yeah Gwaine.” Merlin giggled. “Don’t you remember Lancelot’s wedding night?”

The three of them chuckled while Leon groaned. “Don’t remind me. I _still_ don’t think Guinevere has forgiven me for what I did to her house.”

Lancelot chuckled. “How many times do I have to tell you, she’s already forgotten it ever happened.”

Leon grumbled some more, obviously disagreeing, and then they walked on, rounding one final corner and finding themselves in front of their destination. Gwaine whooped and rushed ahead, stumbling his way towards the tavern. Merlin looked up and caught the name on the sign.

_The Rising Sun. _He snorted. Of course. It was so like Gwaine to save his favourite for last.

“Percival and Elyan are waiting for us inside.” Lancelot said, his eager grin on his face. “We figured you’d show up here sooner or later.”

Merlin grinned, and stumbled his way inside.

* * *

Merlin all but fell into bed, his world spinning as he landed on something warm and decidedly not pillow-like at all. He frowned, petting at the not-pillow-thing until it moved and made him squeak and flail back. The thing chuckled, and Merlin instantly relaxed. He’d recognise that voice anywhere.

“Ar’ur.” He said, slurring his words horribly. “Hi.”

Arthur groaned through a tired chuckle. “Hello Merlin. I assume you enjoyed yourself tonight.”

Merlin hummed and snuggled up close to Arthur’s side. “Gwaine challenged Percy to a wrestling match, and then-“ He leaned in dramatically, as if he was about to reveal the worlds greatest secret. “-then they kissed!”

He fell into giggles, and Arthur wrapped an arm around his waist. Merlin finally calmed down, only to remember something and nearly wiggle out of the bed in his excitement.

“Leon said he was gunna pro-pro-pro-“ He grunted, frustrated he couldn’t get the word out. “He was gunna marry Morg’na.”

Arthur went stiff beside him, something Merlin completely missed in his drunken state, before he relaxed. “Is that so?”

Merlin nodded into Arthur’s shoulder. Then he frowned and gave Arthur a troubled look. “Gwaine said he wouldn’t ever get married, and he wouldn’t believe me when I told him that would make Percy sad. Not even after the-“ He waved his hand in the air dramatically. “-the kissing.”

Arthur snorted and captured Merlin’s arm. He pinned it between them, preventing any further flailing. “I’ll be sure to talk to him in the morning. We should get some sleep now Merlin. It’s an important day tomorrow.”

Merlin nodded again, then whispered. “I’m sorry I left you here alone. With pap’rwork.”

Arthur chuckled softly and ran a hand through Merlin’s hair, soothing. “You don’t need to apologise. I told you to go out and have fun. No sense in both of us being cooped up in here.”

That made sense to Merlin, even if he still felt a little guilty. He decided to do something to fix it. “Next time, I’ll stay. You go out and have fun.”

Arthur snorted, but agreed all the same. They were quiet for a while, and Merlin felt sleep starting to claim him when he realised something, for the second time that night.

“Arthur.” He whispered, urgent. He got a tired hum in response. “We’re getting married tomorrow.”

“We are.” Arthur grunted. Then he tensed, eyes finding Merlin’s in the dark. “Do you… still want that?”

“O’ co’rse.” He said instantly. He grinned, drunk and tired and in love. “I can’t wait.”


	4. Day Four: Routine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, Arthur knows about Merlin's magic, Prince Arthur Pendragon, domestic fluff, marriage proposal.

Their routine went like this;

Merlin would wake just before dawn, the almost-there light making dust look like it was dancing through the air. Arthur slept beside him, the prince hopeless at waking early, and Merlin would kiss his forehead gently, lovingly, before slipping out of their bed. He’d sneak around the room, pulling his clothes back on from wherever they had been thrown the night before, and then he’d get to work.

He’d quietly open Arthur’s wardrobe and choose an outfit for him. He’d stack the loose papers Arthur had left all over his desk neatly into one pile, the most important on top, and then he’d head down to get Arthur’s breakfast. On winter mornings, such as this one, he’d light a blazing fire in the fireplace, relishing in the fact that he could do so with a flick of his wrist and not worry if Arthur saw.

By the time he got back with breakfast, Arthur was normally stirring slightly. Merlin would smile, and take a moment to admire his prince in all his beauty, and then he would wrench the curtains open and yell something obnoxiously loud and cheerful, exactly the way he knew Arthur despised.

And then the prince would sit grumpily at his table, and he would complain even as he ate, muttering about servants and their annoying habits and then he’d drown his goblet of water and ask Merlin to sit with him. Merlin would happily agree, and together they would share Arthur’s breakfast.

Then they’d hurry to finish getting ready for the day, and Arthur would test how many kisses he could steal from Merlin’s lips as he was dressing him. Merlin would laugh and protest, but he would lean into the kisses all the same. They were almost always late for whatever it was Arthur had to do that morning, but neither of them particularly cared.

And then, one day, their routine was interrupted, reversed, and completely thrown on its head.

Arthur woke before him, and had another servant bring not one but two meals up to his room. He lit the fire on his own, and opened the curtains slowly enough Merlin barely noticed from amongst the soft pillows. He shook Merlin’s shoulder gently, lovingly, and Merlin woke slowly, a smile on his face as he stretched and gazed up at the man he loved.

They ate together, talking about everything and nothing, and while Merlin was pleasantly surprised, he wasn’t suspicious.

Looking back, perhaps he should have been.

They almost made it through the morning without anything different happening. Merlin took the empty tray down to the kitchens, ignoring the knowing looks he got, and returned to Arthur’s rooms to help him dress and tidy a little.

Arthur stopped him the instant he entered the room and went to pick up a tunic for him to wear. He frowned slightly, confused, and then his heart nearly beat out of his chest when Arthur smiled and held out a small ring.

It was beautiful, golden and silver woven together into the face of a dragon, and Merlin was so captivated by it he almost missed the words Arthur spoke, nervously, like they were pulled from the very depth of his chest.

Arthur asked Merlin to marry him, and despite everything, despite Uther and the magic ban and the millions of other reasons it was a bad idea, Merlin could only give him one answer.

Slipping the ring onto his finger, he said _yes_.


	5. Day Five: Neckerchief.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, King Arthur Pendragon, Court Sorcerer Merlin, Arthur knows about Merlin's magic, powerful Merlin, marriage proposal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this one early because I wont have time to post tonight. I'm not totally happy with this, but I hope you enjoy anyway. :)

“Gwen, have you seen my neckerchief?” Merlin called, rifling through his cupboard.

“For the fifth time, no I haven’t.” Gwen sighed. “Now stand still.”

Merlin huffed but stopped moving. Gwen fluttered around him, straightening his clothes and brushing off imaginary dust. It was when she started trying to smooth out fake wrinkles on his shoulders that he pulled away. Gwen frowned, but stepped back when Merlin waved his hand.

“It’s fine Gwen, stop fussing.”

Gwen shook her head. “It’s your wedding day Merlin, I’m allowed to fuss.”

“I thought that was reserved for mothers?” Merlin asked as he let Gwen put on his cape.

“Mothers and best friends.” Gwen said, clicking her tongue as she tugged the cape into place. “Besides, Hunith is busy in the great hall, so I have to do the fussing for both of us.”

Merlin laughed. “I’ll remember that when Lancelot finally proposes to you.”

Gwen flushed but laughed with him. They teased each other back and forth as Gwen helped him into the rest of his wedding clothes. Arthur had insisted on commissioning a brand new outfit for their wedding, and no matter how hard Merlin had argued he hadn’t been able to change his mind. His mother and Gwen certainly hadn’t helped, seeing as they offered to help the seamstress make the clothes personally. Merlin had no doubt that if they hadn’t already had so many responsibilities they would have made them completely on their own.

As it was, they had done a wonderful job, and Merlin secretly loved the outfit. The material was a deep blue, even softer than the other clothes he was given when Arthur made him Court Sorcerer, and Merlin never wanted to wear anything else. A red belt wrapped around his middle, more a soft sash than a belt, matching the long red cloak that brushed along the ground when he walked, the Pendragon symbol on the back beside the druids’ triskelion. And then there was the jewellery.

Gaius had gifted him an old silver necklace that used to belong to his father, something he said was passed down through his family and had a sort of magical protection all of its own. Merlin cherished it, along with the little leather bracelet Will had given him years ago, when he had left Ealdor for the first time. He wore both now, along with an intricate golden dragon that curled down and around his wrist until it reached the middle of the back of his left palm. The druids had presented it to him almost a year ago now, after they had proclaimed him Emrys, their great leader.

The two pieces he cherished most, however, were on his right hand. Two rings, next to each other, one a simple silver band and the other a golden band encrusted with red and blue gems. The first was once his mothers – it had been on a chain around her neck for as long as he could remember – and she had given it to him the day she arrived in Camelot, after Merlin had sent word that Arthur had proposed. She said his father given it to her, a long time ago, and that she always knew she’d give it to him when he got married.

The other ring, with its ridiculously expensive gems, was a gift from his soon-to-be-husband.

He had returned to their chambers one night, late after spending an evening with a few druids insistent on teaching him more of their traditions. He had expected Arthur to have fallen asleep hours ago, so he was surprised when he creeped into their chambers to find him awake and working at his desk.

“Merlin.” He had murmured, and met him halfway across the room.

Merlin had smiled, apologetic. “The druids didn’t want to let me go.”

“They never do.” Arthur had sighed. “I feel like we never get any time for ourselves anymore.”

Merlin had agreed, but simply cupped Arthur’s cheeks and kissed him lightly. “Come on. Let’s get to bed.”

Arthur had tugged on his hand, a nervous tilt to his smile. “Wait.”

Merlin had stopped, confused, as Arthur had slowly lowered himself onto his knees. He had felt his eyes widen and heart beat faster as Arthur had smiled shakily and pulled out something from his pocket. Merlin had gasped, hardly able to believe what he was seeing as Arthur had held up a beautiful ring.

“Marry me?” He’d asked, and Merlin had hardly been able to answer in his shock.

“Speaking of your mother.” Gwen said, interrupting his thoughts. “She should be finished soon. Are you ready?”

Merlin was extremely ready, but there was still one problem. His mother had made him a brand new neckerchief, and Merlin had promised to wear it when he married Arthur. However, he had, unfortunately, lost it. The last he had seen it, it had been in the chambers he shared with Arthur.

The chambers he was currently banned from, to avoid running into Arthur before they were married.

Merlin sent a distracted smile Gwen’s way. She’d never let him go get it. “I’m ready.”

Gwen smiled and moved towards the door. “Alright. I’m going to find Hunith, and then we’ll come get you.”

Merlin nodded. Gwen slipped out the door, and before it could close completely Merlin muttered a spell. The door froze with just enough room for Merlin to slip through. He adjusted his cloak slightly and squeezed through the door.

His magic held up the spell as he wondered through the hallways, slipping guiltily past Gwen and a pair of guards as they stood frozen in time. He walked quickly, boots clicking softly on the stone floor as he approached his and Arthur’s shared chambers. Another pair of frozen guards stood in front of the door. Merlin slipped past them easily, allowing time to speed up slightly as he pushed on the door.

He shut it quietly behind him and let go of the magic completely, time speeding back up in an instant.

He saw his neckerchief almost instantly, bright red and the softest he had ever had. Two small dragons were embroidered on a corner; one the Pendragon symbol, and the other a dragon in flight, the symbol of a dragonlord. Neither dragon was visible from where he stood, though he knew it was the right neckerchief from its bright colour alone. It was on Arthur’s desk, haphazardly thrown over Arthur’s crown.

Merlin glanced around the room. Arthur was no where in sight, but Merlin knew he had to be in the room somewhere. As if hearing his thoughts, a thump sounded from behind the changing screen, and Merlin saw a mess of golden hair peeking over the top. He glanced at his neckerchief, then silently started to sneak forward.

He didn’t get far before he tripped on air, silently cursing as he stumbled and almost fell. He paused, sending a futile look Arthur’s way, silently pleading that he hadn’t heard him.

He heard a sigh, and knew his pleas were for nothing. “What are you doing here Merlin?”

He straightened himself, very deliberately turning away from Arthur. “How did you know it was me?”

“Only one person is clumsy enough to sneak silently past the guards and then trip on air.” Arthur drawled, amused.

Merlin thought he should probably be offended by that, but he was too busy trying to get his neckerchief and get out as fast as possible. He snagged the cloth, almost sending Arthur’s crown skidding across the floor, then turned for the door.

“Just grabbing my neckerchief. Now, I have to get back before Gwen notices I’m gone.”

Arthur made a pained noise. “You are not wearing one of those _things_ when we get married.”

“Excuse you!” Merlin exclaimed. “My mother made those _things_.”

“And she did a… wonderful job .” Arthur said. “But they aren’t really… King material.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “It’s the new one. With the dragons.”

“Oh.” Arthur seemed to mull it over, and Merlin could almost see the slow acceptance on his face. “Oh, alright.”

Merlin grinned and bowed dramatically towards the changing screen, though he knew Arthur couldn’t see it. “Thank you sire. Your graciousness will be told throughout the ages.”

Arthur laughed. “Get out of here before someone catches you.”

Merlin laughed as well, then tugged the door open and whispered the same spell as before. Magic flowed through him as time slowed to a stop. He squeezed his way out of the room, ignoring the guards and few servants he passed on his way. He only sped up his pace when he saw Gwen and his mother heading in the same direction as him, to his temporary chambers.

He let go of the spell the instant he was back in the room. He breathed a sigh of relief as the strain of using such strong magic for so long dissipated. He wrapped the neckerchief around his back, making sure the dragons were proudly on display.

Then the door opened slowly, and his mother’s smiling face peaked in. “Are you ready?”

Merlin grinned. “I’m more than ready.”


	6. Day Six: Home.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, King Arthur Pendragon, King Merlin, Arthur knows about Merlin's magic.  
Other pairings: Gwen/Morgana.

“Is everything ready?”

Merlin looked up from where he was talking to his mother and Gaius. Arthur rode up to him, beautiful and golden in the morning sun. He glanced at the rest of the people gathered in the courtyard, their entourage. Everyone looked ready to go. George nodded subtly to him from his spot on his own mare, and Merlin smiled.

“I think so.”

Arthur grinned and took his hand. “Then let’s be off.” He inclined his head to his mother and Gaius. “Hunith. Gaius.”

Hunith curtsied as Gaius inclined his head. “We’ll see you both in a week, sires.”

Arthur nodded, eager to go. Merlin squeezed his hand before he let it go and leaned down to give his mother one last hug before they left.

“Be careful.” His mother whispered, squeezing him tight. “You know how dangerous the roads can be.”

Merlin sighed dramatically. “I’ll be fine Mother.”

His mother pulled back, unconvinced, and fixed his crown. “Don’t lie Merlin. We both know you get into trouble wherever you go.”

“Mother!” Merlin protested.

He heard several people chuckle, and glared when Gwaine yelled out ‘it’s true!’ Merlin dropped his eyes and muttered a spell, and in an instant all of the mead in Gwaine’s wineskin turned to water. He grinned wickedly. Arthur raised his eyebrows at him, and Merlin grinned wider. They’d find out later. His mother shook her head, but she looked as amused as Merlin felt.

“Just promise me you’ll be safe.” She whispered. “You aren’t a servant anymore Merlin. You’re a king.”

Warmth bubbled up in Merlin’s chest. He glanced at Arthur. Morgana had made her way over, Gwen by her side, both looking regal in their beautiful dresses and circlets. He wasn’t surprised to see Gwen in a brand new dress. Morgana had taken to spoiling her every chance she got after they had married, and the past year had seen Gwen gain a host of dresses and jewellery. Merlin had never seen either of them so happy.

He thought he understood, now. The crown on his head had a weight to it that he knew came from more than just the expensive gems, but the feeling he got when Arthur held his hand, or kissed him, or turned to him for advice in clear view of everyone more than made up for it. They’d barely been married a day and Merlin already knew he wouldn’t change a thing.

“I promise Mother.”

She nodded and stepped back, satisfied. Morgana and Gwen had stepped back from Arthur, and his mother took the opportunity to say her farewells to her new son in law. He laughed as Arthur got tugged down into a hug and smiled at Morgana and Gwen as they approached him.

“Be careful.” Gwen said instantly, almost toppling him from his horse with her hug. “Don’t get into any trouble, you hear?”

“What is it with everyone thinking I’m going to get into trouble?” He grumbled. “I’ll be fine.”

Gwen laughed and kissed his cheek, not saying anything more as Morgana pulled him into _another_ hug.

“Don’t take too long.” She said. “Camelot can’t be without her Kings for long.”

“We’re only visiting the outer villages. You did it when you got married, you know it shouldn’t take more than two weeks.” He grinned. “Besides, Camelot will do just fine with its Queen Regents looking after her.”

He winked, and Morgana laughed and shoved him upright. “Off with you, little brother!”

Merlin laughed. He glanced at Arthur, saw his mother standing with Gaius at the steps. Morgana and Gwen joined them, Elyan by their side, all of them calling their farewells as they turned to leave. Arthur reached out for his hand again, and Merlin rode closer so he could take it.

Together, they led their entourage out of the gates of Camelot.

* * *

Merlin groaned, shifting uncomfortably in his saddle. Riding for almost two weeks non-stop was probably the most uncomfortable thing he had ever done. Arthur glanced at him, amused and slightly worried all in one, and reached out his hand. Merlin took it instantly.

Then Arthur grinned, and Merlin heard a whoop from Gwaine, and he looked up to see the castle in the distance. Relief bubbled up inside him, as well as a newfound swell of excitement, and he urged his horse faster, almost tugging Arthur from his saddle.

They rode into Camelot’s courtyard like that, hand in hand, with Morgana and Gwen and his mother and Gaius all there to greet them again. Merlin sighed.

It was good to be home.


	7. Day Seven: Flower.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, King Arthur Pendragon, Noble Merlin, Arthur knows about Merlin's magic, jealous Arthur, marriage proposal.

Arthur, Merlin had found out, was much more of a girl than he could ever be, no matter what the prince said. This showed, most oddly, whenever Merlin gave someone flowers. He had no idea why, but it always put Arthur in a horrible mood for days afterwards.

It had taken him longer than he’d ever admit to figure it out.

* * *

The first time it happened, Merlin hardly thought about it afterwards.

“So where are my flowers?”

Merlin looked up, distractedly, from where he was scanning the list of all the suspected sorcerers and sympathisers. “Your flowers?”

“I heard Morgana got some. I assumed you'd be putting them in all the rooms.” Arthur glance at him out of the corner of his eye, and Merlin quickly glanced up, innocently. “Or is she the only one to receive a token of your affections?”

“Yes.” Merlin said, then quickly back-pedalled. “I mean, no. It’s… It's not a token of anything, affection or otherwise.”

“I see.” Arthur turned away, and Merlin couldn’t be sure, but he thought he was pouting. “Then why were you trying to hide them from me yesterday?”

Merlin hummed, glancing up _again_ from the list. “I wasn’t.” Wait, no, that wasn’t right. “I mean, I was.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Just, uh, didn't want you to get the wrong impression.”

Arthur turned back around, forcing Merlin to roll the list back up with his magic. “And what’s the right impression?”

Merlin frowned. Arthur was making a far bigger deal out of this than he had thought he would. At most he thought he’d maybe be teased a little, or told that he stood no chance and that would be the end of it. He didn’t expect this… this childlike pout and almost _jealous_ response.

He shrugged, focusing on answering the question rather than try and figure out whatever mood the prince was in now. “That I was trying to cheer her up after the fire.”

“Pick them yourself?” Arthur asked, obviously aiming for lightheaded and missing by a mile.

Did he really like flowers that much? “Maybe.”

Arthur turned from him, again, and he was finally able to finish reading the list. Yes! There was a familiar name. And it said she was suspected of consorting with druids; perfect.

He looked up at Arthur, who was messing around with his vambrace. “I was only trying to be nice.”

Arthur said nothing, but the tightening of his jaw and the scowl let Merlin know that hadn’t pleased him.

“Sword.” Arthur snapped, and once he had it he gestured to the door. “That will be all.”

Merlin, confused but dedicated to his mission, went.

* * *

The second time it happened was a little harder to forget.

Merlin had spent the entire afternoon gathering herbs for Gaius in preparation for the winter. They’d been almost entirely out, and Arthur had given him permission to take the whole night off if he needed it. Merlin, faced with his first night off in _months_, spent perhaps longer than necessary out in the woods.

It was late when he finally got back, and the chill in the air bit at his skin. His bag of herbs and plants was fit to bursting, a heavy weight on his shoulder, and he hefted it pointedly at the guards when they questioned what he was doing out so late. They let him pass, and on the way back to the castle he ran into Gwen, his friend heading back home after a long day working.

She looked tired, so Merlin reached into his satchel and pulled out a few herbs he knew helped with exhaustion. He also found a handful of pink flowers, something he was planning on using to spruce up his room, but he presented them to Gwen with a flourish, grinning at her tired laughter.

She pocketed the herbs and held the flowers to her nose. “These are lovely Merlin, thank you.”

Merlin waved his hand. “It’s nothing. What are friends for?”

They hugged and said their goodbyes. Merlin dragged his feet up the stairs to his room as his own exhaustion set in. He collapsed onto his bed, and couldn’t convince himself to get back up again. He fell asleep slowly, still in is day clothes.

It wasn’t until lunch the next day, after a busy morning training the knights, that Arthur got the chance to sit down and speak to him.

“Sir Talion told me he saw you giving Guinevere flowers last night.” He said as he stared at his plate.

Merlin looked up from where he was cleaning Arthur’s armour, an eyebrow quirked. “Yes? I thought they might cheer her up. She looked exhausted, and I know it’s been hard on her since Morgana left.”

Arthur grunted and Merlin winced. They didn’t talk about Morgana. Merlin had successfully gotten her to the druids months ago, and she had left a note for Uther to find that told him she had left of her own free will. It had avoided a witch-hunt, but Uther still hadn’t given up on trying to find her.

Merlin hoped he never found her. She deserved to be free.

“Are you making a habit of giving flowers to every girl you know?” Arthur asked finally, breaking the odd silence.

Merlin snorted. “If I was, then you would be next, _sire_.”

Arthur spluttered, but didn’t throw anything at him like he’d suspected. There was a strange look on the prince’s face, and Merlin stared for a moment before shrugging it off. He got back to cleaning, ignoring Arthur’s grumbling.

He wasn’t sure why, but he couldn’t help thinking Arthur sounded just a little bit jealous. The thought stuck with him for the rest of the day.

* * *

The day King Arthur Pendragon was crowned was the happiest in the entire kingdom. People travelled from all over the kingdom to see the new king ascend to the throne. Arthur himself was dazzling, beautiful and every inch a king. The grief of losing his father was still fresh, Merlin knew, but the entirety of Camelot was ready to move forward into its Golden Age, its Once and Future King leading the way.

When the druids walked into Camelot a week afterwards, Morgana at their front, Arthur greeted them warmly, without a hint of fear or aggression. Merlin stood by his side, fidgeting in his new fancy robes. He watched Arthur descend the steps and rush to Morgana, a huge smile on both their faces as they laughed and hugged. Gwen was shifting excitedly next to him, waiting for her chance to greet her old friend after so many years apart.

Merlin watched, a huge grin on his face, as Morgana let Arthur go and turned to look at him. He stepped forward, Gwen keeping pace with him, the new golden dress Merlin had gotten her for her birthday brushing against the ground. She launched herself at Morgana, laughing and crying in equal measure. Morgana stumbled but held her tight and buried her face in her shoulder.

Merlin waited, patient, as his friends slowly pulled apart. Gwen held onto Morgana’s arm as they turned to him, and Morgana grabbed her hand and linked their arms. Merlin bowed extravagantly, and Morgana curtsied back. He muttered a spell, and flowers bloomed in his hands.

He straightened and held them out. “My Lady.”

Morgana took them and held them to her nose. “Thank you, Lord Merlin.”

_It is good to see you again. _He said silently, reaching for her through mind-speak.

_And you as well. _A knowing smirk. _Emrys. _

_Not you too! _Merlin groaned and turned to greet the rest of the druids. _Lord Merlin is bad enough._

Arthur was already moving among them, greeting the leaders and anyone else who approached him. Merlin made his way over to him, flushing slightly when the druids started whispering and bowing as he passed. The servants in the castle did it too now, to Merlin and to Gwen, ever since Arthur had made them nobles of Camelot’s court the day he was crowned. Neither of them were used to the attention. Merlin wasn’t sure he ever would be.

“Lord Merlin.” Arthur said, teasing, when he saw him.

_Emrys. _Several voices murmured in his mind, and Merlin inclined his head to the druid leaders.

He recognised only one of them. _Iseldir. _

_It is good to see you again Emrys. _The man said, smiling slightly.

“Welcome to Camelot.” He said aloud, gesturing around them.

“It is a pleasure to finally be welcomed here.” A hunched old woman spoke, a staff cliched tightly in her hands.

Arthur opened his mouth to respond when a yell cut him off.

“Arthur! Emrys!”

They both spun just in time for a child to barrel into their arms. Arthur grunted and Merlin stumbled and almost fell. When he heard laughter, he looked up to see Gwen and Morgana trying to stifle their giggles. He looked down and saw a mess of black hair, and for a moment he was incredibly confused, but then the child pulled back and grinned at them.

Arthur’s eyes widened in recognition at the same moment Merlin’s did.

“Mordred.” Arthur said, clapping him on the shoulder. “You look well.”

“I am.” He grinned. “Thanks to you two.”

Merlin felt a twinge of fear run down his spine as he looked at the boy – at Mordred. Arthur’s bane, if Kilgharrah was to be believed. Merlin wasn’t so sure he should believe the old dragon anymore. Arthur had set him free almost a week ago now, and Merlin hadn’t heard a word from him since.

“Morgana said we were going to live here now that you’re king. I can’t wait!” Mordred was saying, excitedly hopping in place. “I want to be a knight!”

Arthur laughed and shot an amused look at Merlin. “Perhaps when you’re older.”

The druid leaders were whispering to themselves now, Merlin could hear it in the back of his mind, like a relentless tickle. Mordred looked ecstatic, and although Morgana was giving Arthur a stern look, a smile was twitching at her lips. Merlin didn’t know what to feel – what to think.

Especially not when, as they were all filing into the great hall, Arthur leaned over and whispered in his ear. “I saw what you did with those flowers. Still up to your old tricks I see.”

Merlin had paused at the door to the great hall.

That had _definitely_ been jealousy in Arthur’s voice.

* * *

It had been five months, two weeks and four days since Arthur had welcomed the druids into Camelot. Magic was everywhere, and all of Camelot flourished because of it. Merlin had never imagined the day would come. When he has stood, trembling and terrified, after telling Arthur about his magic, he hadn’t allowed himself to hope that this would be the outcome, no matter what Kilgharrah said about destiny.

Now, Merlin smiled as he snuck into Arthur’s chambers, the guards not even sparing him a second glance. He quickly made his way to Arthur’s desk and arranged his surprise – a small note, and a single rose, Pendragon red and blooming. He left them in a beam of sunlight, positioned so Arthur would have to walk around the desk to see what was written on it.

He heard the guards outside the door stand to attention, and in an instant he was invisible and pressed up against the wall.

Arthur strolled in, and Merlin could tell he was exhausted. He’d been in a meeting all afternoon with almost the full council – Merlin had only managed to escape a few minutes ago. The neighbouring kings and queens were all gathering in Camelot, and the first was set to arrive the next day. The council members were all at odds at what to do, who to house where, and other things Merlin scarcely paid attention to. He hardly thought it mattered who sat where during a feast, and he still couldn’t understand why it would be an offence to be seated in one seat over another.

Arthur threw his sword down first, Excalibur’s sheath bouncing on the bed. Then he took his crown off and pinched the bridge of his nose, something he only did when he was extremely stressed – or when Merlin did something particularly idiotic.

He paused at the sight of the note. He glanced around the room briefly, a smile fighting against his frown, and when he rounded his desk and read the note the smile won the battle. He picked the rose up and brought it to his nose, inhaling lightly. Then he picked the note up, and stared at what he found underneath it.

Merlin stepped away from the wall, and his magic faded, leaving him visible once more. Arthur didn’t even flinch.

“What’s this?” He asked, lightly, holding the ring up to the light.

Merlin smiled. It was beautiful - he’d asked the best jewellers to make it, the last time they had been at the lower town markets, and then he had spent hours pouring over it, pushing spell after spell into it until the metal shone gold and the small red gems, arranged expertly into the shape of a flower, near glowed. It would protect Arthur from anything, for whenever Merlin couldn’t be there.

“I remembered how jealous you got whenever I gave anyone flowers.” He said easily, shrugging. “We’ve been courting for months now – I thought you might like a flower of your own.”

Arthur glanced at the rose still in his hand and gulped. “And the ring?”

Merlin’s grin widened, even as his heart started beating hard in his chest. “Well. That’s the other thing.”

“The other thing?”

Merlin nodded. “The other night. After- after. You said you’d marry me, if I wanted.” He stepped forward, erased the distance between them both. Arthur was shaking. “I do want. I want you, Arthur Pendragon. Will you marry me?”

Arthur barked out a laugh. “Idiot.”

But there were tears in his eyes, and he slipped the ring on his finger, right next to his mothers’. So when he kissed him, Merlin knew what his answer was.


	8. Day Eight: AU.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Alternate Universe - Pirate, pirates, violence, marriage.

Arthur could have screamed.

They had sailed for days to get to this secluded little cove, a place that no one else knew about but their crew. Arthur had made sure of it. He had wanted this day to be perfect, beautiful, and – most importantly- _uninterrupted_. Merlin deserved that much after everything Arthur had put him through.

Of course, _of course, _his father had found them. God forbid the great Uther Pendragon let his traitorous pirate son have a happy wedding day.

“Canons!” Arthur yelled, glaring at the ship that had cornered them in.

His crew scrambled across the deck, Merlin and Leon calling their own orders as his fathers’ ship sailed ever closer. The English flag fluttered slowly in the wind, a stark contrast to the skull and crossbones on their flag, and Arthur hated it. He’d lost almost fifteen years of his life to that flag – following in his father’s footsteps, doing his best to make the man proud, ignoring his morals and his heart in an attempt to be a worthy son.

In the end, it had taken a mouthy little pirate with the most ridiculous outfit Arthur had ever seen to open his eyes to the truth. That the crown was corrupt – that, ironically, pirates like Merlin, who stole only from the corrupt and rich - were the ones that truly protected the innocent. He’d helped Merlin escape and ran with him, not once looking back. And that, perhaps, was why Uther was glaring at his soon-to-be-husband with so much hatred.

The canons fired, ripping into the other boat as it got closer. Merlin ordered another round to be fired, but Arthur called out for them to wait. The crew looked to him in confusion, though they all stopped what they were doing.

“Arthur?” Merlin yelled, a fierce look in his eye. “They’re getting closer.”

“We can’t sink them.” Arthur said, jumping down from the helm. “We’ll trap ourselves in here.”

“Then what can we do?” Lancelot asked quietly.

Leon looked grim. “We fight.”

The rest of the crew grimaced at that. A fight was the last thing they wanted, but it may be the only way for them to get through the next few minutes.

“We just need to fight them off until we can get around them and away.” Arthur said.

The men nodded.

“Good luck.” Merlin said to them all, making sure to look each man in the eyes. “And don’t die.”

Will whooped and Gwaine chuckled, then Elyan yelled at them from the crow’s nest and they all simultaneously turned to the other ship. It was closer now, so close Arthur could hear the men on deck shouting.

And standing at the bow, now glaring straight at Arthur, was Uther Pendragon himself.

“Kill them all, but bring the captains to me!” He heard his father growl.

There was a loud cry as the other boat drew up beside them, and in an instant a horde of men were spilling onto their deck.

Arthur grunted as he crossed swords with a giant of a man. He was completely bald and his head was far too small for his body. His face was tomato red as he tried to push Arthur back. He held firm and pushed back. He glanced at Merlin, fighting off two men with his duel blades. He shot a glance around the deck, saw his crew winning against the invaders, and turned his gaze back to his father.

“Leon!” He yelled as he defeated his opponent with a quick slash of his sword.

Leon popped up behind him. “Captain?”

Arthur glared right at his father. “Marry us.”

Merlin jerked back, his swords dropping down to his sides in shock. “Now? Arthur!”

Three more men charged them, yelling and screaming, and Leon grunted as he blocked the sword aimed for his head. “Is now really the best time?”

Arthur shoved his new opponent back and spun, catching the man Merlin was fighting in the back with his sword. Merlin shifted at the same instant, and Arthur heard a grunt as the man he’d pushed dropped down, clutching his bleeding neck.

He breathed heavily and found his father’s eyes again. “Now is the perfect time.”

Merlin glanced at what Arthur was looking at and growled. “Do it.”

Leon hesitated. He had been apart of Uther’s crew once, just like Arthur, and they had all but grown up together. He knew exactly what Arthur was thinking, and from the look on his face, he didn’t approve.

“I don’t think now is the best time-“

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Gwaine yelled, jumping down from the helm. “I’ll do it!”

Merlin laughed. Leon sighed. Arthur just turned a grin on the man.

Gwaine pulled on a serious face as he warded off a young man’s attack. “Dearly beloveds, we’re gathered here today in the presence of all these bastards and con men-“

“Gwaine!” Leon protested.

Gwaine danced away from a sword to to the skull and climbed back up the helm, then jumped up onto the front of the wheel. Another man made to strike Arthur, but fell to a bolt in the back to the head. He looked up to the crow’s nest and waved at Elyan. He waved back, then took aim with his crossbow again. Gwaine kicked a man down onto the deck and continued.

“-to witness the marriage between our great captain-“ at this, several men whooped, and Merlin jumped onto the bowsprit with a flourish and a quick bow. “-and his pretty princess!”

“Oi!” Arthur yelled, slicing through another opponent.

Percival, who up until that point had been steering the ship, smacked Gwaine on the back of the head. Gwaine rubbed his head and pouted. Arthur was forced to scramble backwards as three more men charged him, and he really wished Gwaine would hurry up with it all.

Gwaine rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright! Our great captain and his not-as-great co-captain.”

One of the men charging Arthur fell to another one of Elyan’s bolts, and the second was down in seconds, Arthur’s blade having pierced his heart. It fell awkwardly, trapping his sword. The third man roared, and Arthur knew he wouldn’t get his blade free from the corpse in time to block it. He raised his left arm – losing a hand was better than losing his life.

Then the man spluttered and stopped. He stood still for a moment, and then he slumped to the ground. Merlin stood behind him, a wild look in his eye, as he pulled his blades from the fallen man’s back. Arthur finally managed to free his own sword, and then he stepped forward until he was a breath away from Merlin’s lips.

“Thanks, but I had it.” He said, cocky even as his voice shook slightly.

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “I could see that. You wanted to lose an arm then?”

“I thought it might look intimidating.” Arthur said, turning and pressing his back to Merlin’s. Three more men circled them. How many _were_ there? “I could get a hook for a hand. Or a sword.”

“You’re an idiot.” Merlin informed him, then struck out as quick as lightning, catching two of the men in their throats. Arthur blocked the third man and shoved him away. “Why am I marrying you?”

“Because you love me.” Arthur grinned as Lancelot finished off the man he had shoved. “Gwaine! Finish it!”

“I’m a little busy at the moment princess!” Gwaine yelled, from where he was fighting off three men, protecting Percival’s back.

“Oh for the love of-“ Arthur cursed. “Leon!”

Leon swept a man off his feet and stabbed him in the chest, quickly turning to face them. “Merlin, do you take this man to be your husband.”

Merlin grinned. “I do!”

“Arthur, do you take this man to be your husband?”

They were finally starting to break away from the other ship now. Uther’s men seemed to have realised that they weren’t going to win the fight – they were all retreating, throwing themselves off the side of the boat and swimming back to their own. Their men, instead of cheering, were all turning to look at him expectantly.

He turned to Merlin and dropped his sword. “I do.”

“Then by the power vested in me as this vessel’s first mate, I pronounce you husband and husband.” Leon finished. “You-“

“Kiss!” Gwaine yelled, and a few men laughed.

Merlin rolled his eyes and grabbed Arthur by his top. He pulled him close and pressed their lips together. Arthur pressed against him, sighing into the kiss and almost melting into Merlin’s arms. They only pulled apart when several people whooped and whistled.

Merlin laughed and grabbed his hat. Arthur made a grab for it, only to watch in despair as Merlin threw it to their crew. Instead he grabbed Merlin’s hat and danced away, triumphant. Merlin cried out, but wasn’t quick enough to stop him from throwing his hat into the crowd.

The crew laughed and yelled their congratulations. Merlin wrapped an arm around him, grinning from ear to ear, as their crew surrounded them. Will was clutching his arm, a bandage already bright red with blood, but he was grinning nonetheless, excited for his best friend. Leon informed him that a few others had been hurt, but no one had died. The most worrisome injury was Mordred’s leg, sliced down the middle from knee to ankle, but Merlin took one look and said he would be fine with a few stitches.

Arthur had run to the stern once he was sure everyone was alright. They had managed to slip past his father’s ship and out of the cove, leaving their enemies behind to pick up the crew-members still in the water. Arthur could just barely make out the shape of his father, still watching from the bow of his ship.

He turned his chin up, not even knowing if his father would see it. It didn’t matter. Arthur was done with him – he wasn’t Arthur’s family, not any more.

“Are you alright?”

Arthur sighed. “I’m more alright than I’ve been in a long time.” He turned and smiled. “Husband.”

“Husband.” Merlin grinned. “I’ve waited far too long to call you that, Arthur Pendragon.”

“Not Arthur Pendragon.” Arthur murmured, still staring at Uther’s ship as it steadily grew smaller. “Not anymore.” He turned to Merlin, determined. “I want nothing more to do with him. He’s no family of mine, not any longer.”

“So?” Merlin prompted gently.

“So.” Arthur grinned. “From now on, its Arthur Emrys.”

Merlin’s eyes widened, and he silently mouthed the words. “It doesn’t sound right.”

“It will.” Arthur said. “Just give it time.”

Merlin grinned. “That, I can do.” He pulled Arthur into his arms. “Arthur Emrys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you wondering - yes, this was inspired by That Scene from Pirates of the Caribbean. :)


	9. Day Nine: Knight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Modern Setting, reincarnation, marriage proposal, fluff.

“This place is amazing.” Merlin said, eyes wide open in wonder as he gripped the brochure tightly. “Look at this!”

Arthur rolled his eyes next to him. “It’s a wall _Mer_lin.”

“Ass.” Merlin muttered, elbowing him. “It’s a tapestry. An almost complete replica, according to this.”

“Right.” Arthur droned, drawing out the i. “Very interesting.”

Merlin elbowed him again. “If you didn’t want to come you could have stayed in the car.”

“How was I supposed to know exploring a castle would be so boring?” Arthur asked, sighing dramatically.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Like football is boring?”

Arthur gasped, mock offended. “Football isn’t _boring_.”

“And neither is exploring old castles!” Merlin said triumphantly, patting Arthur on the arm.

Arthur groaned, but Merlin could tell it was more for show than anything else. “It wouldn’t be half as boring if there was something worth looking at.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. Honestly, his boyfriend was such a drama queen. Maybe Merlin should be the one calling _him _a girl. It would be more accurate.

“Come on then.” Merlin sighed, grabbing Arthur’s hand. “I know a place you’ll like.”

He dragged him through the castle, down a few flights of stairs and soon enough they were in the castle armoury. Arthur’s eyes lit up as he saw the weapons lining the walls. Merlin snorted and wondered around the room as Arthur went straight for the sword rack.

“This is more like it.” He heard him mutter, hands hovering over the display cases.

Merlin snorted. “Going to be my knight in shining armour?”

“Only if you’ll be my damsel in distress.” Arthur teased.

“Not bloody likely.” Merlin muttered.

He stopped in front of a display on the wall – a shield with two swords behind it. Something about it felt familiar. In fact, something about the entire castle felt familiar, Merlin just couldn’t put his finger on _why. _He stared at the emblem on the shield, wondering why the dragon made something in his heart _ache_.

Arthur cleared his throat behind him, and Merlin turned to find him kneeling on the ground, a box in his hand and a flush on his face.

Merlin’s hands flew to his mouth as he realised what was happening.

“Merlin.” Arthur started. “We’ve been together for three years now, and you’ve been my best friend for even longer. I gave you my heart a long time ago, and I know I have yours.” He took a deep breath, quirked his lips a little in a half-smile. “I know I’m a bit of a prat, and you’re a bit of an idiot, but I want the world to know what you mean to me. So… will you marry me?”

Merlin couldn’t help it. Giggles made their way up his throat, and within seconds he was laughing uncontrollably.

It was only when Arthur grumbled something under his breath, a decidedly unhappy look on his face, that he managed to pull himself together.

“You know, I didn’t think this kind of thing happened in real life.” He said, still chuckling slightly.

Arthur frowned, confused now. Merlin pulled him to his feet, gave him a mischievous grin, then sunk down onto one knee.

Arthur’s eyes widened when Merlin reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small box. He popped it open, the ring inside a plain silver band. Arthur’s mouth dropped open.

“Arthur Pendragon, you are the single most infuriating man I have ever met.” Arthur made an offended sound in the back of his throat. Merlin grinned. “You’re also the kindest, most noble man I’ve ever met, not to mention the most beautiful. I fell in love with you a long time ago, and I’ve been wanting to ask for your hand for a while now. I was just waiting for the perfect moment.”

He paused to gather himself.

“Will you marry me?”

Arthur stared at him for a full thirty seconds, then started laughing harder than Merlin had. He pulled Merlin to his feet and slipped the ring he’d gotten him onto Merlin’s finger. It was thick, at least twice the size of the thin ring Merlin had gotten, and was a simple gold, nothing fancy, but definitely something that Arthur would buy. Merlin smiled. It was something that very clearly showed people he was Arthur’s.

“You know, I was going to wait until we got to the royal chambers, but you just had to go and propose before me.” Merlin took Arthur’s hand in his, and slipped his ring onto his finger.

The instant the ring settled on Arthur’s finger they both jolted, memories of a previous life, of a prince and a warlock, of death and dying and of _the very castle they were standing in _flooded back to them. An impossible life, but one they had lived many thousands of years ago.

“Merlin?” Arthur asked shakily.

Merlin looked up at his king. “_Arthur_.”


	10. Day Ten: Mother.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, King Arthur Pendragon, Court Sorcerer Merlin, Arthur knows about Merlin's magic, marriage proposal, alcohol.

_Mother. _

“A toast!” Arthur yelled over the noise of the feast. Everyone fell silent in an instant. “To peace, and to hope. Hope of a better future!”

“To the future!” The crowd of people yelled, raising and draining their goblets.

_I hope you are doing well. _

Merlin raised his eyebrows at Arthur as he drank. Arthur wasn’t normally one for impromptu speeches – Merlin wrote enough of them to know that. Not even his new position as Court Sorcerer could save him from that particular duty.

_Arthur informs me negotiations with Essetir are going well. _

“What was that for?” He asked as Arthur sat down.

His king, whom he loved perhaps more than life itself, grinned drunkenly at him. “What?”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “The toast.”

“Oh.” Arthur’s eyes sparkled. “Aren’t your ears working? It was for the future.”

_Ealdor should officially be apart of Camelot within the month. _

Merlin rolled his eyes again and shook his head as Arthur turned to Leon on his left. He swirled his goblet around the downed the rest of his drink in one gulp. The feast had been going on for a few hours now, and almost everyone present was pleasantly drunk. Gwaine roared in the background, laughing at something Percival had whispered in his ear. He caught them both sending glances at Arthur, trying and failing to be subtle, and shook his head.

He wouldn’t be missed if he slipped out now.

_I also have some news – _

He stood and waved off Emilia as she stepped forward to fill his goblet again. George gave him a frown, and gestured to Balan – his manservant was giggling with Elyan about something. He glanced his way and immediately tried to cover his laughter, but Merlin could still see it pulling at his lips. He shook his head to both of them. He wouldn’t need Balan tonight – he didn’t want to pull the boy away from the festivities, and he knew how to dress himself. He’d manage.

He took two steps before Arthur launched after him. He stopped, Arthur’s hand gripping his arm tightly.

“Arthur?” He asked, confused.

“Will you marry me?”

_Arthur proposed yesterday – _

Merlin’s eyes widened. He stared straight at Arthur, who, now he was looking, wasn’t as drunk as he had first assumed. There was a hopeful look in his eyes, and underneath it a vulnerability even Merlin rarely saw.

The entire hall was silent, watching them.

_In the middle of a feast, the prat!_

Merlin stood, completely frozen. He didn’t know what to do – what to _think_. He wasn’t prepared for this. Arthur had been courting him for almost a year now, and not once had they brought up marriage. Not even after Uther died four months ago. He’d always assumed Arthur would marry some princess, that he’d stay in the background forever. And he’d been okay with that.

Yet, here Arthur was, asking him this impossible question like it was the thing he wanted most in this world. Like he hadn’t reached into Merlin’s heart and pulled out his deepest desire.

_Your official invitation to the wedding should arrive in a few days. _

“What are you doing?” Arthur asked curiously from their bed.

Merlin hummed distractedly. “Writing a letter to my mother. You have to write her an invitation tomorrow.”

Arthur blinked at him. “Okay.”

_We’re all excited to see you again. _

“Are you finished yet?” Arthur whined.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Almost, almost. You’re incredibly whiny when you’re drunk, you know that?”

“And you leak magic when you’re drunk.” Arthur pouted. “Get over here.”

“Oh alright.” Merlin sighed and stood, quickly scribbling the last of his letter.

_Merlin_

He slipped into the bed beside Arthur and was immediately wrapped up into the safety of Arthur’s arms. He borrowed closer, content, and swore he’d send the letter by bird in the morning. For now, he was simply content to fall asleep in his fiancé’s arms.


	11. Day Eleven: Travel.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, magic reveal, Arthur knows about Merlin's magic, Prince Arthur Pendragon, mpreg, implied mpreg.

“So, Merlin, my friend, are you going to tell us where, exactly, it is we’re going?” Gwaine asked as he urged his horse to trot beside Merlin’s.

His friend grinned cheekily. “Nope.”

Gwaine groaned. “We’ve been riding for hours now. Are we close?”

Merlin frowned slightly, then pulled a map out of his saddle to study it. “I… think so.”

“You don’t sound very sure.”

Merlin huffed. “Well, that’s because Arthur wasn’t very clear with his instructions!” He turned the map slightly, squinted at it, then shoved it away again with a frustrated growl. “I’m sure it’s this way. We just have to keep moving.”

Gwaine glanced back at Lancelot and Percival, his eyebrows raised. Lancelot raised his eyebrows right back, a knowing glint in his eye Gwaine wasn’t sure he liked. Percival simply shrugged. He turned back to Merlin.

“So you’ve travelled all the way to Mercia, found me, and called Sir Noble and mister handsome-“ at that, he winked at Percival. The man was completely unaffected by his flirting. “-and you won’t even tell us what we’re doing here?”

“Nope. Sorry.” Merlin shot him a guilty grin. “I can’t. Arthur’s orders.”

Gwaine rolled his eyes. “What the princess doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He reached over and lightly jabbed Merlin in the ribs. “Come on.”

“If he can’t tell us, then he can’t tell us Gwaine.” Lancelot said, somehow managing to be both stern and hopeful, like he was hoping Merlin would tell them anyway. “Leave him be.”

Gwaine snorted, shook his head and muttered under his breath. “Sir Noble.”

“We’re here!” Merlin yelled, interrupting him and grinning from ear to ear.

‘Here’ turned out to be a large, pure white tree at the bottom of a ravine in the middle of nowhere. Gwaine looked around curiously, but there was nothing else interesting about the ravine. Merlin was rummaging around in his saddle pack for something, not paying them any attention. He glanced at the other two men with them.

Lancelot was, honestly, one of, if not the best man Gwaine had ever met. He’d only met him two days ago, but it was easy to see. The man was brave, noble, honourable and loyal to a fault, and he’d come the instant Merlin had asked for his help. That was something Gwaine could respect.

Percival had been as much of a surprise to Merlin as he had been to Gwaine. Lancelot had introduced him as the man that had saved his life – apparently a group of slavers had overpowered him, and Percival had jumped in to save him at the last moment. The giant of a man had been wondering for years, and the two had decided to band together. He’d decided to come when Lancelot had recieved Merlin’s letter, apparently eager to meet the man Lancelot talked so much about.

It was Percival that spoke now, voice quiet and sad, and yet still full of awe. “That’s an æsc.”

“A what?” Gwaine asked.

“An æsc. Ash tree.” Merlin cried out in triumph and finally pulled a small bag from his saddle.

Lancelot gasped. “I thought they were all burned years ago?”

“All but this one.” Merlin confirmed.

“Is… this what the princess wanted?” Gwaine asked, dubious. “A tree?”

The three men turned to him, incredulous. Gwaine held up his hands in surrender.

“What?”

Lancelot looked him up and down once. “Don’t you know what it is?”

Gwaine tipped his chin up, defensive. “No. I don’t.”

“It has another name.” Percival murmured. “It’s much more common.”

“Well, don’t leave a man waiting.” Gwaine said into the following silence. “Tell me.”

He glanced at the tree again, then started straight into Gwaine’s eyes. “Druids call these trees æsc, or ash trees, after their appearance. Its common name, however, is the tree of life.”

Gwaine’s eyes widened. Oh, he knew that name. But that was impossible. Lancelot was right – they’d all been burned years ago. Another casualty of Uther’s bloody crusade against magic. Yet here one stood, giant and growing proud.

“Aren’t they meant to bring people back to life?” He asked, an old drunken tale resurfacing from an almost forgotten memory.

Merlin waved his hand. “No, that’s just an old myth. Only the Cup of Life can do that. Æsc can extend a life, or bring it back from the brink of death, in certain situations.”

He slipped down from his horse, and Gwaine followed him in an instant. “Certain situations?”

“Well, it can’t save someone that’s been poisoned.” Percival and Lancelot joined them on the ground. “But it can stop bleeding almost instantly, from even the most fatal of wounds, which makes it pretty useful in the battlefield.”

Percival glanced at Merlin, quiet again, an odd look on his face. He said nothing, however, and no one else seemed to notice, so Gwaine let it go. Maybe he’d ask later.

Lancelot glanced down the steep slope of the ravine. “How do we get down there?”

“There’s supposed to be a path.” Merlin muttered, pulling out his map again. “Arthur said there’d be a path.”

“How would Arthur know?” Gwaine asked, even as he joined the others in searching for it. “Has he been here before?”

Merlin shook his head. “No. The druid he asked told him, apparently in great detail.”

Merlin’s lips quirked up, but Gwaine just felt even more confused. “Why would he go to a _druid_?” Merlin’s grin was replaced by panic, and Gwaine held up his hands. “I won’t tell! I don’t have a problem with the druids.”

Merlin ducked his head, glancing up from below his lashes. “Even though they practice magic?”

“I know you might not have seen it, living in Camelot, but I’ve visited places where magic foams free, and, well…” He shrugged. “They’re still standing.”

Merlin nodded, a hesitant thing, and Gwaine sighed. Truthfully, he hadn’t had much experience with magic at all, but he knew the consequences Uther’s war on magic had caused, knew how many innocent people had lost their lives to it. It wasn’t something he could ever find any justice in.

“Over here!” Lancelot yelled, and the two of them shared a glance before sprinting over to him.

The path was a tiny thing carved into the side of the ravine, winding down into the foliage below. It looked like the worst path Gwaine had ever seen, thin and crumbling in places. One small slip could easily lead to a broken neck.

“I don’t think I can make it down there.” Percival said quietly.

Merlin shook his head. “Could you stay with the horses? We shouldn’t be too long.”

“Shouldn’t be?” Lancelot murmured. “Are you expecting trouble?”

Merlin stared down the trail. “I don’t know. All I know is that this is the last æsc, and that there has to be a reason it’s still standing.”

“So what you’re saying is there could be any number of dangerous, horrible _things_ down there protecting the tree?” Gwaine got a nod in return, and grinned. “Alright, I’m in. Let’s go.”

Merlin laughed and shook his head, while Lancelot looked between them with an odd expression. Percival a face was pinched, not liking the idea of letting them go off into possible danger while he stayed behind. Lancelot noticed.

“Make sure the horses are ready for us.” He said to Percival, clapping him on the shoulder. “We may need to ride quickly.”

And then he started down the trail. Merlin hesitated a moment, then followed after him. Gwaine turned to Percival and winked.

“If I don’t make it back alive, it was a pleasure meeting you.” He grinned cockily.

Percival rolled his eyes. “I think you’ll be fine, little man. You’re too small for a beast to bother with.”

“Oi!” Gwaine protested, but he was chuckling to himself as he joined the other two on the crumbling trail.

They had to press against the side of the ravine as they slowly shuffled their way down. They were halfway down when Merlin slipped, and Lancelot and Gwaine instantly pinned him to the rock wall as he fumbled back to his feet. He was shaking, but he thanked them both and waved them onwards, clearly eager to get back onto solid ground.

Five minutes later they arrived at the bottom of the ravine, surrounded completely on all sides by bushes and thin trees. Merlin looked like he could kiss the ground, he was so happy, while Lancelot had joined him on scanning their surrounds. Gwaine couldn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean they were safe.

“We should get moving.” Lancelot muttered.

“Right.” Merlin said, nodding. “Okay. This way.”

He pushed forward, bag over his shoulder, and Gwaine had to wonder how he could be so brave in the face of a terrifying beast without even a dagger on him. Lancelot quickly followed behind him, sticking close to his left, so Gwaine drew his sword and took his own place behind Merlin’s right shoulder.

“Almost there.” Merlin muttered, shoving his way past a bush. “It should be just through here-“

“Merlin!” Lancelot yelled.

Gwaine whipped around, saw a _huge_ shadow charging right at them from the trees on their left, and without thought he grabbed the back of Merlin’s shirt and _pulled_. They both fell to the floor. Lancelot swiped at the beast as it rushed past them, his sword bouncing off whatever hide it had. He grunted and fell back, standing protectively over Merlin. Gwaine scrambled to his feet, standing beside Lancelot and glaring into the shadows.

He glanced at Merlin, once, to see him still on the floor, eyes wide open and arms wrapped around his stomach.

Gwaine focused on their surroundings again as a cry split the air, unlike anything he’d ever heard before. He shivered and gripped his sword tighter, determined to protect his friend or die trying.

“Who goes there?” A tinkling voice asked, menacing for all it sounded like bells. “Who _dares_ enter my home?”

Gwaine almost dropped his sword. Lancelot fumbled with his, as shocked as Gwaine. The beast, whatever it was, could _talk_. Still, he held his protective stance, and kept scanning their surroundings. It didn’t matter if it talked – it could still kill them all.

Merlin scrambled to his feet and placed a hand on both of their shoulders. “We mean you no harm, I swear.”

Laughter, tinkling and harsh. “I have heard that lie before. Do not think I can be fooled so easily anymore, not by your kind.”

“Put your swords away.” Merlin hissed, and then, louder. “It’s not a lie. I swear on my mother’s life, we come in peace.”

Gwaine hesitated. He _really_ didn’t want to put his sword down. Whatever this thing was, it was very obviously dangerous. Putting down his sword was the last thing he wanted. A glance from Merlin, however, had him slowly lowering his sword to the ground. Lancelot quickly followed suit.

“We only came for the leaves of the æsc tree. We only need a few, and then we’ll go.” Merlin assured. “I promise.”

“Your promises mean nothing to me, human!” The creature snarled.

Merlin held his hands up and stepped forward, ignoring Gwaine’s attempts to stop him. “Please! I have to- I _need_ those leaves.”

There was a desperation in his voice that Gwaine didn’t like. He didn’t want to push Merlin, but whatever he needed those leaves for sounded urgent. He had to wonder about Arthur – the prince wasn’t with them, and there was only one person that could make Merlin so desperate.

He sincerely hoped whatever it was, it wasn’t Arthur – he was a good noble, one of the rare ones. The world couldn’t afford to lose him.

Rustling sounded from the bushes. Gwaine tensed up, felt Lancelot do the same beside him, but neither of them reached for their swords. A hoof appeared, followed by another, and for a moment Gwaine thought they’d been talking to a horse, but then he looked up and saw the pure white coat with small scales, glowing blue eyes and giant horns, unlike anything Gwaine had ever seen before.

“What are you?” Merlin asked in wonder.

The beast shook its head. “I am a kirin.”

Merlin mouthed the word, while Gwaine blinked, a memory floating back to the surface. His father had made sure he had a good education, and that included information about magical creatures – not all, but some. Of them all, Gwaine had always been fascinated with dragons. And a kirin…

“You’re half dragon.” He blurted out before he could think to stop himself.

Glowing eyes focused on him. “I am.”

Merlin made a noise, half surprised and half pained. “Half dragon?”

The kirin snorted. “That is what I said. Now.” The kirin drew itself up, taller than even Percival, and blew a small jet of fire from its nose. “_Leave_.”

Lancelot flinched. Gwaine was ready to grab Merlin and haul him away, say they’d find another bloody tree somewhere, but the set of his friends’ shoulders told him it would do no good. Merlin was stubborn, and Gwaine would not be able to drag him away from this. One glance at Lancelot told him he had come to the same conclusion.

“No.” Merlin said, firm. “I am not leaving here without those leaves. We wish you no harm, so please, step aside.”

The kirin’s eyes narrowed. “Do not assume you can order me around, human.”

Merlin tilted his chin up and glared right back at it. “I don’t want to. But I can, and I will, if you don’t _step aside_.”

The kirin whinnied and danced backwards, ears flat against its head. “_Dragonlord_.”

Gwaine’s eyes widened. Dragonlord. He knew what that was too – a man who could control dragons with a mere word. They had been respected because of their power, often bowed down to as nobles, until Uther’s bloody purge. Then they were all hunted and killed. His father had told him none had survived – that the power hadn’t been able to pass onto the next generation, and it was gone along with the dragons.

Evidently, that was another part of magic Uther had failed to completely destroy.

Merlin was refusing to look back at them, and Gwaine ached to reassure him. Lancelot shifted next to him, and for an insane moment he thought the man might attack Merlin, that Gwaine might have to defend him, but then he saw the look of concern, and his own feelings mirrored back at him in Lancelot’s eyes. He could have sighed in relief – he would not have to worry about Lancelot.

“Please.” Merlin said. “I need those leaves.”

The kirin considered them all, blue flames dancing in its eyes. “You will take the leaves, and nothing else.”

Merlin’s shoulders sagged, and he looked like he could have cried. “Thank you.”

He moved forward, and Gwaine and Lancelot got two steps forward before the kirin stepped in front of them. It turned to Merlin.

“You, and you alone Dragonlord. These two stay here.”

Gwaine’s fists clenched. “Like hell we’re leaving him alone.”

The kirin turned back to him, flames dancing in its maw. “You are not welcome. The Dragonlord will be fine.”

Gwaine growled, and it was only because of the look on Merlin’s face that he stopped.

“Please, Gwaine.” He pleaded. “I won’t be long, I promise.”

“Fine.” He grit out. “But if you take more than ten minutes we’re coming in after you.”

He didn’t even need to look to see Lancelot was nodding. Merlin nodded and walked away, the Kirin looming by his side. Gwaine watched them go, scowling.

He waited all of two minutes before he turned to Lancelot. “Did you know?”

“That he was a Dragonlord?” Lancelot looked up from where he was studying his sword. He sighed when Gwaine nodded. “No, I didn’t.”

There was something there, like there was something else he _did_ know, but Gwaine wasn’t going to pry. Every man had his secrets, and Merlin would tell him when he felt he could. Until then he was simply glad to have the man’s friendship.

“Not that it changes anything.” Gwaine said, and it was almost a challenge.

Lancelot smiled. “No. No it doesn’t.”

Gwaine nodded. Good.

///

They were camped about an hour from Camelot’s boarders, Percival standing guard, when Gwaine woke up shaking. As used to nightmares as he was, he simply laid still until his shaking was under control. It was only then that he noticed the whispers.

“-why would she ask you to take the roots?” Percival asked quietly.

Merlin sighed. “She wanted me to plant them somewhere. Apparently all you have to do is plant the root and a new æsc will grow.”

Percival made a considering noise. It took Gwaine longer than he’d like to admit to figure out who they were talking about. The kirin. It –_ she_ – must have asked Merlin to plant more of the ash trees. Not for the first time he wished he had been able to go with Merlin and talk to the kirin more.

“You know.” Percival started lightly. “Æsc are most commonly used in childbirth.” Merlin’s breath hitched, and Gwaine tensed where he lay. “In fact, it’s almost essential for a male sorcerer to have some æsc leaves if he wants to survive giving birth.”

Gwaine cracked an eye open, watched the way Merlin curled up around himself as he watched Percival poke at the fire.

“Percival-“

“My wife’s brother died in childbirth.” Percival said, easy, and all at once Gwaine could breathe again, and the hand on his dagger relaxed.

Merlin looked surprised. “He was a sorcerer?”

Percival grunted. “We lived in a tiny village in Essetir. No one bothered us, for the most part, and no one said a word when Zir started to show. Didn’t say a word when Freda was born, either, so we were lucky in that regard.”

Merlin shifted, watching Percival with sympathy instead of fear now. “What happened?”

Percival sighed, quiet and sad. “Cenred’s men. They burned the village to the ground, along with everyone in it. I was away in the next village over, hoping to sell something at the market they had there. By the time I got back…”

He stopped talking, and Merlin made a pained sound in the back of his throat. “I’m sorry.”

Percival glanced up from the fire, a small smile on his face. “It was years ago. I still miss them, but the pain isn’t so bad anymore.”

They fell into silence. Gwaine waited for a moment before he sighed and sat up. Merlin’s eyes flickered to him, and he could see the worry there, though he was glad to see no fear. He never wanted Merlin to fear him, not when the man was the first true friend he had had in years.

“How long have you been awake?” Merlin asked.

Gwaine couldn’t lie to him. “A few minutes. I wasn’t sure if I should interrupt or not.”

Merlin nodded, slowly, accepting. “And?”

Gwaine yawned and shuffled closer to the fire. “And I think you’re a madman for staying in Camelot for so long.”

Merlin’s lips quirked. “Is that all?”

Gwaine hummed. “I also think the princess is a lucky man.”

Merlin went bright red and Percival turned his head to look at him. Gwaine grinned and plopped himself next to the giant by the fire, and squeezed his shoulder briefly. He got a quick glance for it, thankful, and shifted away.

“How did you know?” Merlin mumbled, still red.

“Merlin, my friend, it was obvious from the moment I met you that you were head over heels.” He shrugged. “I’ll admit, I was a little jealous of Arthur at first, but it became obvious pretty quickly that he loved you just as much.”

Merlin blushed even harder.

“Which is why I wonder why he isn’t here with us.” Gwaine continued. “I can’t imagine he’d let you go off on an adventure alone if you’re, you know.”

“Pregnant?” Merlin’s lips twitched up in a smile, and then he frowned. “He didn’t like it, trust me. But we knew I’d need the æsc leaves sooner or later, and Uther had already started to suspect us of being more than master and servant. Arthur didn’t want to risk confirming his suspicions. That’s why I sent for you and Lancelot. Arthur would only let me go if I had someone to watch my back.”

Gwaine turned to Lancelot, the only one sleeping among them. “Does he know?”

Merlin blinked. “I- yeah. He already knew about my magic, found out about it on accident, so I thought- well, I thought it would be okay to mention it in the letter.”

“That’s why he wouldn’t show it to me.” Percival muttered.

They all fell into silence again, and this time it lasted long enough that Gwaine thought Merlin might have dropped back off to sleep. He certainly felt tired enough to drop at any moment. It was only when Merlin spoke that he realised the other man was still awake.

“Gwaine?”

He looked over. Merlin was huddled under his blanket, sleepily blinking at him. He inclined his head.

“Yeah?”

“I know you’re banished from Camelot.” Merlin started, and that was how Gwaine knew whatever came next was going to be good. “But would you be willing to risk your neck for me one last time?”

///

The wedding was a small affair.

Gwaine stood with Lancelot, Percival and Guinevere off to one side, while Gaius, a knight Arthur had introduced as Leon, and a bunch of druids stood on the other side. Merlin and Arthur stood between them, hands clasped and wrapped in a beautiful green ribbon. A druid elder stood before them, and within minutes they were pronounced married.

Gwaine cheered and laughed with everyone else as Merlin and Arthur kissed, and he was the first to run up and congratulate them both. It was perfect, and Gwaine knew that if he was ever called back to Camelot again, banishment or not, he’d come in a heartbeat.

Some friends were worth the risk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This... was not where I thought this oneshot was going to go, but, well, I am very happy with what I ended up with. :) It was very fun to write, even if it kept getting longer and longer until it felt like it wouldn't end. XD I hope you enjoyed!


	12. Day Twelve: Tranquil.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Modern Setting, disabled Arthur Pendragon, marriage proposal, idiots in love, fluff.

Arthur loved the gardens. They were the best part of the hospital, mostly because they were nothing like the hospital at all. They were bright and wild and free, not white and empty and contained. Not like him.

“Arthur!”

Arthur sighed at the voice. A nurse. Couldn’t they leave him alone for more than five seconds?

“Over here.” He called reluctantly.

She popped up from behind the roses, following the path he knew led from the reception area. He perked up. Normally they would come from the patient’s door, after having discovered he wasn’t in his room where he should be.

The nurse, Freya – if he remembered correctly – smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to drag you back inside. Well, not yet. I just thought I’d let you know you have a visitor!”

Arthur sat up straighter, a huge grin already growing on his face before his boyfriend made it around the roses and into view. His hair was a mess, as always, and there was paint all over his hands. Arthur’s heart softened. He’d clearly just come from work, hadn’t even bothered to go home if Arthur had to guess.

He wasn’t sure how it was possible to fall even more in love with the man, but somehow Merlin managed to make it happen.

“Hey!” Merlin said, grinning from ear to ear. “Sorry I’m late, the kids were crazy today. Maddie had a little tantrum when home time came and her painting wasn’t dry.”

Freya left as Merlin leaned down to kiss him, and it was only once he pulled back that Arthur could speak. “Do a lot of painting today?”

Merlin glanced down at his hands and laughed. “Oh yeah. Gwen brought out the glitter paint and the kids went nuts.”

Arthur hummed. “What else happened today?”

Merlin launched into another tale immediately, something about a parent throwing a bigger tantrum than any kid at finding out the daycare wasn’t open on Sundays, and Arthur barely listened as he let Merlin’s voice wash over him. It was nice, just to hear his voice again. It got lonely here, sometimes, though Arthur would never admit it.

Merlin wheeled him over to the pond, right at the very edge of the garden, and he managed to sit himself by the waters edge. A pair of fish swam together, spinning around each other lazily, and Arthur smiled. It was calm. Tranquil. Especially when Merlin shoved his wheelchair away and sat behind him.

“There’s been something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” Merlin said after a while, and Arthur hummed in question. Merlin intertwined their fingers. “What do you think about getting married?”

Arthur blinked, then tried to twist around so he could see Merlin’s face. Merlin wouldn’t let him. He tightened his grip on Arthur and buried his nose in his neck. His breath tickled.

“Is this you asking me to marry you?”

Merlin shrugged. “More asking if you’d even want to.”

Arthur considered it. He’d never really thought about it before. He was happy the way things were between them, and he didn’t need a contract to bind him to Merlin. They were already bound in heart and soul – what did the rest matter? Still… it would be nice, he supposed, to be able to call Merlin his husband.

“ I think I would.” He paused. “And you?”

“Oh definitely.” Merlin’s said, and Arthur should have guessed the answer. “Do you… want me to propose to you?”

Arthur glanced down at the fish again. They were still circling, lazy.

“Once I’m out of here.” He decided.

He could feel Merlin’s grin against the back of his neck. “Alright.”

They sat there for a few more minutes, drinking in the peace and the sunshine, before a mischievous smile lit up Arthur’s face. He wiggled out of Merlin’s arms and made his back into his wheelchair, grinning. Merlin raised an eyebrow – of course he recognised Arthur’s mischievousness.

“What?” He asked.

Arthur patted his lap. “Sit.”

Merlin, eyebrow still raised, sat. “Why am I sitting in your lap?”

Arthur started wheeling them towards the patient’s door, Merlin relaxed against him with his arms wrapped around his neck. “I found a ramp around the back that makes it feel like you’re flying when you wheel down it.” He smiled cockily. “You in?”

Merlin grinned. “Oh, I’m in.”


	13. Day Thirteen: Pendragon.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, Prince Arthur Pendragon, Arthur knows about Merlin's magic, dragon Arthur Pendragon, protective Arthur Pendragon, protective Merlin, marriage proposal.

“Arthur!” Merlin yelled as he ran, trying to catch sight of his friend. “Come on, this isn’t fair!”

“All’s fair in love and war _Mer_lin.” Arthur’s voice echoed down from the trees.

Merlin huffed, squinting as he tried to spot any hint of red among the branches. “Well this isn’t war, and it’s certainly not love, you _ass_.”

“It’s kind of like war.” Arthur laughed, somehow still hidden from Merlin’s view. “You’re terrible at this.”

“Shut up.” Merlin said, stomping his way through the underbrush.

Maybe he could climb up there, surprise the prat by jumping on him. One glance at how high the trees were made him immediately decide against that particular idea.

“I could have you in the stocks for talking to me like that!” Arthur called, moving above him with a rustle of leaves.

“But you won’t!” Merlin called back cheerfully. _There. _“I see you! Second branch from the top.”

“_Damnit_.” Arthur groaned.

Merlin laughed as Arthur made his way downwards. He stood by the tree as Arthur dropped down, bright red scales shining in the afternoon sun. He shoved his snout into Merlin’s middle, grumbling at losing their game. Merlin just laughed and shoved him away.

“Come on. We have to leave now if we want to make it back before nightfall.” Merlin started wondering back to their camp, idly running his hands across the trees and bushes as they passed them. Leaves and flowers bloomed under his touch, with one bush growing deep purple berries. “Your father will kill me if we’re out late again.”

“Please.” Arthur said, and if he were in his human form he’d have rolled his eyes, Merlin just _knew_ it. “He wouldn’t have time to after berating me for the rest of the night.”

Merlin snorted, though it wasn’t really funny. Arthur always walked away from Uther’s rants sullen and withdrawn, though he tried to hide it behind a wall of anger. Merlin always tried to do his best to cheer him up afterwards, but sometimes the best thing to do was to leave him be.

They arrived at their camp a few minutes later, laughing and shoving each other as they went. Arthur, still in his dragon form, pushed him over more often than not, but Merlin got him back by tripping him with his magic, acting innocent when Arthur grumbled at him knowingly.

Merlin gathered their things, then helped Arthur into his clothes when he shifted back into his human form.

“You know.” Merlin started, as casually as he could, while he pulled Arthur’s top into place. “It would be quicker if we could fly back.”

Arthur stiffened. “Merlin…”

“I could make sure no one saw us!” Merlin said hurriedly. “I know you want to Arthur, I’ve seen the way you look at the sky.”

Arthur pulled away from him, jaw twitching. “It’s too risky Merlin. I won’t-“

“It won’t be risky! I’d make sure of it!” Merlin cried. “You’re part dragon Arthur, you belong in the sky. Staying on the ground is killing you.”

Arthur exploded. “Enough, Merlin! You’re not to speak of it again or I’ll throw you in the stocks for a week, do you understand?”

Merlin drew back, heart stuttering. “Yes sire.”

Arthur sighed and slung a bag over his shoulder. “Lets move.”

Merlin followed behind him slowly, his own bag in his arms, mind whirling.

* * *

Merlin desperately tried to stifle his giggling.

It was silent in the castle, the moon shining through a nearby window. It was long past midnight, and everyone bar a few guards were asleep in their beds. Except, of course, for Merlin and one prattish prince. And, of course, it was entirely said prats fault he wasn’t snuggled up in bed right now.

Not that Merlin was complaining.

Arthur had woken him an hour ago, claiming their game from a few days ago wasn’t over. Apparently now it was Merlin’s turn to hide while Arthur searched the castle for him. Merlin had dashed from his room the instant Arthur started counting, not bothering to argue that it was the middle of the night, or that they were both in their sleep clothes. He simply snuck past Gaius and ran, dodging guards here and there, until he found a place to hide.

Granted, hiding behind a tapestry perhaps wasn’t the best he could have done, but it had worked so far.

He’d been hiding for almost two hours when he heard the quiet patter of bare feet on stone. Immediately he had to fight back his giggles. He dared not move, except for a slight turn of his head. He saw Arthur creeping down the hall, away from him, and snorted before he could help it. Arthur didn’t seem to notice, and rounded the corner without a backwards glance.

Merlin sighed and relaxed against the wall. Just a few more hours and then he’ll have won their game – and he was definitely planning on using his win to his full advantage. Maybe he’d get Arthur to wear one of those horrible hats he always forced on him, or he could tell Arthur it was his turn to be the prince for the day and order him around, _or_-

“Having fun there?”

Merlin jumped, Arthur’s voice right in his ear. He squeaked and spun around, only to get tangled in the tapestry and almost trip over himself. He was only saved by Arthur’s arms around his waist, pulling him back up and, embarrassingly, into Arthur’s arms.

“Ah.” He breathed, face burning. “Thanks.”

Arthur swallowed. “Yeah.”

“I guess this means I don’t win after all.” Merlin said, staring at Arthur’s lips. It was like he couldn’t look away. “Damn.”

Arthur hummed. “We’ll have to play again sometime. After all, the game can’t end until one of us wins.”

“Uh huh.” Merlin agreed. Arthur was staring at his lips too, he could see it out of the corner of his eye, and it was _very _distracting. “I’m going to win.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow and pulled back a little to look at him properly. “You think you can win against a _dragon_, Merlin?”

Merlin finally ripped his eyes away from Arthur’s lips and glared at him. “You think you can win against the greatest sorcerer _ever_, Arthur?”

Something in Arthur seemed to change, and for an instant Merlin thought he had pushed too far, that four months was perhaps too soon for Arthur to have accepted his magic, but then Arthur’s lips were on his and all his thoughts stopped.

The kiss lasted an instant and an eternity and then he was pulling away with a small smile on his face. “I think I’ll take my chances.”

Merlin spluttered, and then, since he couldn’t think of anything to say, he kissed Arthur again.

* * *

“Arthur, come on, hurry up!” Merlin tugged him along, laughing at his grumbling.

“I still don’t know where it is we’re going!” Arthur complained. “You lied to my father and told him we were going hunting for a week, and then dragged me all the way across our borders into Essetir, and you _refuse_ to tell me what you’re planning.”

“You’ll see!” Merlin called cheekily over his shoulder.

They walked for a few more minutes, Merlin tugging Arthur through the trees the whole way. He only stopped when they reached large river with a huge cave at the end of it. Merlin looked around and nodded, satisfied.

“This is perfect.” Merlin said.

“Perfect for _what_?” Arthur huffed, exasperated and curious in equal measure.

Merlin walked to the edge of the river and spun around to face Arthur, arms stretched out wide. “For you to fly!”

Arthur’s face froze. “Merlin…”

“We’re well away from Camelot.” Merlin said. “We’re in the middle of no where, no one is around, and there’s enough space here for you to move comfortably.”

Arthur looked doubtful. Merlin narrowed his eyes. He was _determined_ to help Arthur fly, and he wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass them by.

“Arthur.” He stepped forward and grabbed his hands. “Trust me, alright? Everything will be fine.”

Arthur sighed. “If my father finds out-“

“He _won’t._” Merlin said fiercely.

Arthur hesitated for another moment, then yanked his tunic off. Merlin grinned and helped him out of the rest of his clothes, almost buzzing with excitement. He folded Arthur’s clothes, and by the time he turned around again Arthur was a giant red dragon, his scales shining and reflecting off the water like hundreds of miniature suns.

“Well Merlin.” Arthur shifted on his feet, and Merlin could tell he was nervous. “Wish me luck.”

And then he spread his wings and launched into the sky. Merlin yelled and fell back as wind buffeted him, then immediately he jumped back to his feet and started cheering. He whooped as Arthur flew past him, his wings stretched out until they almost brushed the trees on either side of the river. Merlin laughed, pure happiness and delight, and heard Arthur laughing as he turned sharply and whirled back towards Merlin.

Arthur dived as he flew past him, dragging a claw through the water as he went, and Merlin spluttered as water splashed all down his front.

“You prat!” He yelled to Arthur’s retreating laughter.

Arthur flew up and down the river a few more times, Merlin laughing and cheering him on whenever he dipped and spun. He still didn’t dare fly very high - Merin saw the way he carefully kept below the tree line. He watched for a few moments more before he muttered a spell.

It took a moment, but Merlin watched as mist and clouds gathered in equal measure, until the sky was dark and Merlin could hardly see three steps in front of him.

“Merlin?” He heard Arthur yell.

“Over here!” He called back, summoning a little light to help Arthur find him.

He heard Arthur land, and then brilliant blue eyes were directly in front of him. “Is this your doing?”

“Yes.” Merlin grinned and swirled a hand through the mist. “I just though, you know, it wouldn’t matter how high you flew if no one could see you.”

Arthur stared at him for a long moment, and then he had an armful of dragon pressing into his chest. He hugged Arthur as best he could, arms wrapped around his head. Then he pressed a kiss to his forehead, just between his horns.

“Go.” He murmured. “Fly high, my prince.”

Arthur snorted and pulled back, and with a beat of his wings he was gone. The mist swirled around him, dissipating slightly. He could just barely make out Arthur’s form in the clouds, a dark smudge flipping and flying through the air. It made a smile pull at his lips.

Then an arm grabbed him and a knife was pressed to his throat, and his happiness came crashing down around him.

“What are you doing here, boy?”

Merlin shivered and tried to resist the instinct to just blast the man away. “Nothing! Nothing, I swear, I was just passing through, I didn’t even know anyone was here-“

“I saw you call the mist. Why?” The man hissed.

Merlin gulped and felt the knife press into his neck. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His heart was beating a fast in his chest. He couldn’t tell this man the truth, and he couldn’t think of a convincing lie, and apparently the man had _seen_ him do magic, which was probably the worst thing that could have happened in this scenario. Now he _really_ wanted to simply throw him off, but the knife at his throat reminded him what a bad idea that would be.

“Don’t lie to me.” The man growled. “Did Cenred send you? Does he really think a scrawny thing like you could beat me?”

Merlin shook his head, an action that made the knife slice a shallow cut on his neck. He whimpered, and then the mist started swirling as the unmistakable sound of wingbeats filled the air. He heard the man inhale sharply and then the ground shook as Arthur landed heavily. And suddenly the mist was gone entirely, Merlin’s magic letting it go, and Arthur loomed over them both, eye’s filled with fury.

His prince growled, a sound that sent shivers down his spine. “Let him go.”

“That’s impossible.” Merlin heard the man whisper, and then the knife was pressed even closer to his throat. “All the dragons are gone.”

Arthur snarled, and Merlin caught sight of flames licking his sharp fangs. “Let him go and I’ll prove just how real I am.”

The man behind him growled something in another language, guttural and wild. Merlin hadn’t ever heard anything like it, but it felt familiar for a second, like something deep within him recognised it, and then the feeling was gone and replaced with worry. Whatever that had been, Merlin didn’t think it was anything good.

Arthur didn’t seem bothered. He stalked towards them slowly, wings spread and fire glowing in his jaws. Merlin desperately tried to think of a spell that could help them, but the knife held steadily at his throat, preventing him from doing anything. If he wasn’t careful he’d kill himself on the knife before the strange man got the chance.

Then everything, _somehow_, got a million times worse.

“You’re no dragon.” The man growled, and this time he sounded furious. “You’re a _Pendragon_.”

Arthur snarled and darted forward, eyes narrowed and teeth gnashing. The mysterious man – whom Merlin was now realizing was more of a threat than he first thought – slipped the knife up just far enough to slice into the skin at the bottom of his jaw. He whimpered at the slight sting, and Arthur instantly froze.

Then he was shrinking, and before Merlin could say anything Arthur was a man again, standing naked and desperate in the midday sun.

“Alright, you win!” He said, eyes trained on Merlin’s neck. He could feel a trickle of blood run down to his neckerchief. “Just, please. Let my servant go, he means nothing to you.”

“But he means something to you.” The man said, knife dropping slightly. Arthur stiffened. “Why would a prince care so much about a servant...?”

The knife dropped away from his neck further. Merlin met Arthur’s eyes. Everything in those eyes told him no. Merlin simply grinned.

“_Ahatian_!” The man yelled and dropped his knife as Merlin shoved him away and twisted so his hand was on the man’s chest. “_Ástríce_!”

The man flew through the air and crashed into a tree, groaning. Arthur rushed forward as Merlin scrambled back, and then Arthur’s arms wrapped around him, one around his waist and the other around his chest, and he was pulled back against Arthur’s chest. He held onto the arm on his waist with one hand, the other trained threateningly on the man.

He didn’t look like much, now that Merlin could see him. He was big, and obviously strong, with long black hair that was going grey in places. He looked dirty, and unkept, like he’d been on the road for a long time, or perhaps just alone long enough to stop caring about his appearance.

“Who are you?” Merlin yelled, glad for Arthur’s unwavering strength at his back. He thought he might have been shaking. “How didn’t I sense you were here?”

His spells hadn’t gone off, hadn’t warned him of anyone nearby. It scared him – it wasn’t just his own life he was risking here, and if his spells weren’t working...

“Your spells didn’t work because I got rid of them.” The man said as he climbed to his feet. He studied them, confused. “I don’t understand. What is Uther Pendragon’s son doing out here with a sorcerer?”

He spat the king’s name, and Merlin automatically tensed, ready for a fight. “You didn’t answer my question. Who are you?”

The man narrowed his eyes.

“Balinor.” He finally spat. “Now answer mine.”

_That’s not how this works._ Merlin almost spat back, but then Arthur squeezed him and he immediately swallowed the words back down.

“I thought that was obvious.” Arthur said, words clipped.

Balinor nodded slowly. “You have the gift.”

Arthur flinched, a full body thing that Merlin felt, but otherwise gave no reaction. “If that’s what you want to call it.”

“It’s what it is boy.” Balinor growled. “It’s not every Pendragon that can transform like you.”

Arthur snorted, dry and unamused. “I know that.”

He studied them. “I can’t imagine Uther was pleased.”

“I can’t imagine he would be.” Arthur agreed quietly.

Balinor’s eyes widened.

“If he ever found out.” Merlin said, and made sure to make it sound as threatening as possible.

Balinor raised his hands, but studied him curiously. “You serve a Pendragon, despite your magic and his laws.”

“They aren’t _his_ laws.” Merlin all but spat. “Arthur is nothing like his father.”

“No.” Balinor muttered. “He doesn’t seem to be.”

They stood in silence for a few long minutes, simply staring at each other. Then Arthur shivered, and Merlin was remined of Arthur’s naked body, and how cold the day was quickly becoming.

“We’re leaving.” He decided, not willing to lose Arthur to the _weather_ of all things.

Balinor hesitated, then nodded. “Right.”

“You won’t tell anyone what you saw here today.” Arthur commanded, and Merlin wondered how he could sound like the proud Crown Prince of Camelot while naked and clinging to his manservant.

This, for some reason, made Balinor chuckle. “That will not be a problem, your highness. There are not many people that walk in these woods.”

Merlin and Arthur watched as the man melted back into the forest. They stood still a moment, watching and waiting, and then Arthur sighed.

“Come on.” He murmured. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Merlin waited, a handful of flowers clasped tightly behind his back, the cold stone of the castle wall pricking at his shoulders.

He was hiding behind the tapestry again, waiting for Arthur as servants and nobles passed by him, completely unaware. He shifted slightly, his legs starting to protest being still for so long, when a warm body suddenly pressed against his side and he smiled.

“Hi there.” He whispered.

Arthur grinned. “So this is where you’ve been lazing around.”

Like he hadn’t asked Merlin to meet him here. He rolled his eyes. “Prat.”

Arthur grinned wider. “I have something to ask you.”

“Wait!” Merlin whispered, urgent, then brought the flowers out and into view. “Here.”

Arthur’s eyes widened and a flush appeared on his cheeks. “Flowers Merlin? Really? What do you think I am, a girl?”

He reached for them anyway, and Merlin knew he loved them. “The biggest, sire.”

Arthur, surprisingly, chuckled. “Well, maybe I am.”

Merlin raised his eyebrow, a mimicry of Gaius’s. “What does that mean?”

“My question.” He murmured. “Merlin, I want to ask you to marry me.”

Merlin’s breath caught, and it took him a long moment before he could think, let alone talk. Arthur shifted nervously beside him. Several people passed by their hiding spot before Merlin found his voice again.

“But... what about your father? And marrying a princess?”

Arthur made a face. “My father will not be here forever, and I have always sworn I would marry for love.” He tilted merlins chin up, gave him a sweet kiss. “I love you Merlin, damnit all, and I won’t hide you away like I’m ashamed of you.”

Merlin’s chin wobbled, and he felt tears on his cheeks, but he nodded, damning the consequences to hell. “I love you too, Arthur Pendragon.”

Arthur snorted. “Scales and all?”

Merlin giggled, then puled on a serious face. “Scales and all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to you if you figured out it was Balinor before he was revealed. ;)


	14. Day Fourteen: Ancient.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, Arthur knows about Merlin's magic, Prince Arthur Pendragon, fluff.

Arthur shifted on Merlin’s bed, uncomfortable and trying to hide it.

It wasn’t that Merlin’s bed was uncomfortable to sit on, though Arthur had to wonder just _what _Merlin’s bed was made of. He swore it was harder than the ground. Not to mention how the blanket scratched at his skin – how Merlin slept with it he would never know.

He heard the door to Gaius’s chambers open, and the brief muttering of voices, before whoever had entered made their way to Merlin’s room. Arthur shifted and fisted his hand around the gift in his pocket. His heart sped up as the door opened and Merlin himself stepped through.

“Arthur.” Merlin blinked, surprised for a moment, then broke into one of those huge smiles that Arthur loved so much. “What are you doing here?”

Arthur grinned and leaned back, arms crossed and cocky. “Do I need a reason to visit my fiancé?”

Merlin rolled his eyes and kicked his door shut. “You do if your father finds out.”

Arthur felt a thrill of fear go through him at the thought, but pushed it away quickly. “He won’t.”

Merlin sent him a look. They both knew he couldn’t guarantee Uther would never find out about them. They were playing a deadly game, and they were both aware of the deadly consequences if they were found out. Arthur sighed.

“Come here.” He murmured, holding his arms out.

Merlin sat, quickly kicking his shoes off and sinking into his arms. Arthur settled, Merlin’s back a welcome weight on his chest. He sighed as the rest of the world faded away until only Arthur and Merlin were left.

“This is nice.” Merlin mumbled. “You won’t believe how much work I had to do today.”

Arthur hummed and pulled his hands back until they were resting on Merlin’s shoulders, then started carefully kneading them the way he knew Merlin loved. Merlin groaned and leaned into him further.

“Mucking out the stables too hard for you?” He teased lightly.

Merlin hit his knee. “Prat. Cook had me run ragged helping for tomorrow night, and then Gaius wanted me to go buy these rare herbs from the market, and the man was _such_ a haggler! And _then_-”

Arthur sighed and let Merlin’s blabber wash over him. It felt good, to just sit and listen for once, with no expectations whatsoever. Merlin seemed to melt as Arthur moved from his shoulders down his back, his voice getting softer until it trailed off completely. Finally, when Merlin was as relaxed as he could be, Arthur pulled him back to his chest and wrapped his arms around him.

“I have something to ask you.” Arthur finally murmured after a few minutes.

Merlin hummed. “You sound serious.”

“I am.” Merlin tried to pull away, to turn around, but Arthur tightened his hold on him and buried his face in the back of his neck. “Don’t. Please.”

Merlin paused, then settled again. “Okay. What is it?”

“There’s an ancient tradition among royalty.” He started, hesitant. “When we get married, we give each other our most prized possession. It’s a sign of trust, meant to show the other person that even if we didn’t marry for love we can still trust and respect each other.” He waited a moment, let Merlin understand what he was saying before he pulled his mother’s brooch out of his pocket. “Here.”

Merlin gasped. “Arthur, I can’t take this.”

“Of course you can, idiot, I’m giving it to you.” Arthur snorted, shoving it into his hands.

“But...” Merlin turned it around in his hands. “This was your mothers.”

“Yes.” Arthur swallowed past the lump in his throat. “And I want you to have it.”

Merlin said nothing. He ran his fingers over the sigil, reverently, like it might shatter into a thousand pieces if he so much as looked at it harshly. Arthur watched the metal of the brooch shine in the candlelight, and wondered if his mother would approve. He liked to think maybe she would have – maybe she did, if she could see him from her place beyond the grave.

Abruptly, silently, Merlin stood. Arthur let him slip from his arms and the bed, confused.

“What are you doing?”

Merlin ignored him and opened the tiny cupboard that, from the state of his room, he usually completely ignored. Arthur watched him pull something small out of the shelves and quickly press it to his chest, next to the brooch. He closed the cupboard and returned to the bed, sitting facing Arthur now.

He smiled sadly and carefully placed a tiny, roughly carved, wooden dragon between them. He stared at it for a moment, wondering, and then Merlin grabbed his hand and curled it around the carving.

“My father carved this for me, right before he died.” He said, voice barely more than a whisper and filled with so much pain Arthur hurt with him. “It’s the only thing of his I have.”

Arthur picked it up, as careful as merlin had been with his mother’s brooch, and examined it in the low light. “I thought you didn’t know who your father was?”

“I found him.” He hesitated, then smiled weakly. “Do you remember Balinor?”

The Dragonlord. The one that had died in Merlin’s arms, that Merlin had cried over for hours. He looked down at the dragon carving. It made a lot of sense now. His heart broke.

“Oh Merlin.” He whispered, hating the tears in his fiancé’s eyes.

He pulled him close, careful of the dragon and brooch squished between them. Merlin sighed and tucked his head into his shoulder, and Arthur suspected he shed a few tears before he pulled back enough to give him a sweet kiss. When they parted they rested their foreheads together and looked down at the items in their hands.

“Are you sure?” Arthur asked. He had to know.

“Yes.” Merlin whispered back, sad but smiling softly. “You protect my father, and I’ll protect your mother.”

Arthur nodded, his nose brushing Merlin’s as he did, and cradled the dragon to his chest. “I will.”

Merlin suddenly grinned, breaking the solemn air. “So, are there any other ancient royal traditions I should know about?”

Arthur hummed, already smiling at the familiar teasing. “Well, there are a few more.”

“Oh?” Merlin raised an eyebrow, an exact copy of Gaius’s. “And what are they?”

Arthur’s grin turned wicked. “Most of them involve you, me, and a bed.”

Merlin’s eyes shone, and the dragon was gone from his hand in an instant. It appeared on Merlin’s side table, next to his mother’s brooch. He swallowed and turned back to his fiancé.

Merlin’s grin was predatory. “I think you’d best teach me these ancient traditions then, before we’re married.”

Arthur couldn’t do anything besides nod.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't have the time to edit this one, so I apologise for any mistakes! <3


	15. Day Fifteen: Kiss.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Modern Setting, drinking, marriage proposal, fluff, idiots in love.  
Other pairings: Lancelot/Gwen, Leon/Morgana.

The first time Merlin asked him to marry him, they had just met a few hours before.

Guinevere Smith had thrown a birthday party. Leon had been invited, mostly because he’d grown up with her, and he’d invited Morgana – an inevitability since they started dating – and _then_ Morgana had insisted Arthur join them, since he was horribly lonely and had no friends. Arthur resented that, but had allowed Morgana to pull him along anyway, because he might have resented it but she was right.

So he’d gone with Morgana and Leon to Guinevere Smith’s party, not really expecting much, and before he knew it he was surrounded by people and drunker than he’d been in years.

Gwaine, the reason for all of their drunkenness, laughed loudly in Arthur’s ear. “Leon, my friend, your new girlfriend is terrifying.”

Morgana, who was sitting on Leon’s lap, flipped him off. The group laughed, Arthur included, though he knew Gwaine was absolutely right.

“Alright!” A voice yelled, and everyone turned their heads to see Merlin standing in the kitchen doorway, a tray in his hands. “I have jelly shots!”

Gwaine and Elyan cheered. Percival looked like he’d rather eat his own shoe, and Lance and Leon were too concentrated on their girlfriends to care.

Arthur, being the responsible one of this strange group he’d found himself in, stood. If there was one thing he had learned about Merlin over the past few hours, it was that he was ridiculously clumsy. He absolutely could not be trusted to carry the tray of jelly shots to them without tripping and spilling them everywhere.

He hauled himself to his feet and staggered over to Merlin. “Let me take that.”

Merlin smiled but shook his head. “No no no no no, I got it.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, then regretted it as the world spun. “You’re wobbling all over the place, idiot, you’re going to drop them.”

His smile disappeared. “Ass! I can carry it.”

Arthur held his hand out for the tray. “No you can’t.”

Merlin pouted at him, all flushed cheeks and pretty lips, then turned to Morgana. “Your brother’s a prat.”

Morgana, for some reason, found this extremely funny. Arthur glared at her. Gwaine, after catching the look on his face, joined her and started rolling around on the floor in his laughter. Arthur really didn’t know what was so funny.

“You’re going to trip and get jelly all over you.” Arthur grumbled. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Merlin stuck his tongue out at him. He did, somehow, managed to make it to the coffee table without falling over, though there was a moment where Gwaine’s flailing almost toppled him anyway.

Merlin shot him a smug look. “Did it.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah. Idiot.”

“Ass.”

Arthur had sat down next to him, at the base of the couch, and abruptly remembered the chocolate in his pocket. He reached into his jacket and pulled it out. It was slightly squished, but it still looked fine. Arthur shrugged and unwrapped it.

Something heavy fell on his arm, and Arthur looked down to see Merlin leaning on him, eyes glued to his hands.

“Is that a chocolate kiss?” He asked quietly.

Arthur nodded. “Yeah. They’re my favourite.”

“Mine too.” Merlin slid forward some more. “They’re so good.”

No one else in the room was paying them any attention. Gwaine seemed to have managed to convince Percival and Elyan to see how many shots they could down in thirty seconds, and Morgana was cheering them on while Gwen tried to get them to stop. It left them in their own little bubble, if only for this one moment.

“Do you want it?” Arthur asked.

He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because he was so drunk. Maybe it was the lack of social interactions the years of dedication to his job had left him with. Maybe he was just feeling generous.

Or, maybe, he could be honest with himself and admit that it was because Merlin was funny, and attractive, and Arthur wanted to impress him a great deal.

“Really?” Merlin muttered, eyes wide. Arthur nodded, almost in a trance, and handed the chocolate over. Merlin looked from it to him, then grinned. “Marry me?”

Arthur spluttered, not sure what to say, and then he realised Gwaine was laughing again, and that their momentarily private bubble had long since popped. Lancelot was making kissing faces at Merlin. Arthur would have laughed, if he wasn’t still reeling from Merlin’s abrupt question.

Then Merlin popped the chocolate into his mouth and launched himself at Lance, causing the party to dissolve into chaos.

* * *

It became a running joke after that day, especially after Merlin and Arthur started dating.

Any time either of them presented the other with a chocolate kiss, the other would dramatically ask them to marry him. It was always laughed off, and neither ever got a positive response.

After almost two years, that was something Arthur wanted to change.

* * *

He came home late that night, a bag of groceries in one hand and a bunch of roses in the other.

“Merlin.” He called. “I’m home!”

“Hey!” Merlin called, somewhere from within their apartment. “Two seconds!”

Twin yowls startled him, and he glared down at the culprits. “I hate you both.”

Kilgharrah yowled again. Aithusa simply blinked at him and stretched out further on the floor. The cats, in Arthur’s humble opinion, were the worst things in existence, and he would never admit how much he loved them.

He dropped the flowers and bag down on the kitchen counter and immediately raided the fridge for something to eat. A few seconds later Merlin came bounding into the room. He saw the flowers immediately and pressed them to his nose.

“These are lovely.” He murmured, smiling. “What’s the occasion?”

Arthur smiled and reached for the bag, pulling out a single chocolate kiss. Merlins face lit up into a smile and he plucked the chocolate from his hand.

“Will you marry me?” He asked, as Arthur had known he would, as he popped it into his mouth.

Before he could lose his courage he reached into his pocked and pulled out a small ring. “Yes.”

Merlin froze, eyes wide and gaping straight at the ring. Arthur’s heart beat a mile a minute as Merlin stood there, staring. He shifted nervously, and that seemed to break Merlin out of his trance. He launched forward and wrapped his arms around Arthur’s neck. Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin’s waist and spun them around, causing Merlin the squeal and laugh.


	16. Day Sixteen: Horse(s).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, King Arthur Pendragon, King Merlin, Arthur knows about Merlin's magic, marriage.

“I do.” Merlin said, smiling at Arthur.

Arthur leaned forward and Merlin met him halfway, kissing him sweet and chaste.

The crowd around them erupted into cheers as they pulled apart. Merlin grinned and snaked an arm around Arthur’s waist, pulling him to his side. They turned to the gathered crowd together, laughing and smiling so much it hurt. A pair of druids stepped forward and scattered a handful of petals over them, muttering a few words in the Old Religion. Merlin felt the magic wash over him, a blessing of happiness and love.

Merlin nodded to them in thanks as they retreated, heads bowed.

Arthur glanced at him, and they had one moment of peace before their friends were on them. Gwaine was the first to grab him, a strong arm around his neck, and then Percival was there and picking him up and onto his shoulder. He squealed and clung to the knight’s hair.

“Percival!” He yelled, fighting back laughter. “Put me down!”

“Sorry mate.” Gwaine teased. “No can do!”

Merlin opened his mouth to chuck a spell at his friend – maybe he’d finally turn him into a frog – when Arthur yelling drew his attention. Leon and Lancelot had snuck up on him and hauled him up onto their shoulders, grinning at their catch like excited children. Merlin laughed at the look of outrage on his husband’s face.

They were only put down when Arthur started threatening them with the stocks, and Merlin started loudly saying nonsense in the Old Religion. He waved his hand threateningly at Percival and Gwaine once he was back on his feet, but only received laughter in return.

Honestly. It was like they didn’t know he was the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth.

Arthur sidled up to him and found his hand, intertwining them and not letting go. Merlin tugged him closer in return, and then the druids descended on them, calling congratulations and murmuring little blessing under their breaths.

They escaped a few hours later, stumbling and giggling their way through the forest bushes and away from the clearing where the druids had married them under the Triple Goddess. Merlin sighed and rested his head on Arthur’s shoulder.

“Thank you for this.” Merlin murmured. “You didn’t have to.”

“They’re your people. Of course I did.” Arthur kissed the top of his head. “You didn’t have to get married in front of all of Camelot for me.”

Merlin’s lips quirked up. “True. I think I can still here the chanting ringing in my ears.”

Arthur chuckled and pulled him close until his lips were right next to his ear. “Long live the King.”

Merlin giggled and thumped Arthur’s chest lightly. “Stop it.”

Arthur laughed and tried to kiss him, but Merlin danced away, skipping out of reach. Arthur reached for him, only to freeze when he saw something over his shoulder. Merlin froze, unsure. He wasn’t sure what that look meant. He didn’t think he’d ever seen it before.

“Arthur?” He whispered.

Arthur’s eyes flickered to him, and then back over his shoulder. “Look.”

Merlin turned slowly, magic buzzing under his skin.

A unicorn, pure white and almost glowing in the sun stared back at him. He gasped, awe and wonder filling him instantly. It stood among the trees a few steps in front of him, staring at him patiently, like it was waiting for something. Merlin held out his hand and then held his breath. The unicorn watched him for a moment, then snorted and stepped forward until the wet of its nose pressed into the palm of his hand.

Merlin remembered years ago, when he was new to Camelot and Arthur was still the Prince Prat, and they found a unicorn. It was as overwhelming and beautiful as it had been back then.

Arthur’s hand appeared beside his, and he jumped in surprise. He hadn’t heard him approach, hadn’t even seen him until he was right next to him. He looked at him now, his king and husband, and saw his own awe and wonder reflected back at him. He smiled and lightly bumped Arthur’s side.

“You know, it’s meant to be good luck to see a unicorn on your wedding day.” Merlin said quietly. “The druids say it’s a sign of a long and happy marriage.”

“Is that so.” Arthur said, just as quietly, smoothing his hand down the unicorn’s nose. “Well, I suppose that means I’m going to have to put up with you for a while then.”

Merlin snorted and ran a hand through the unicorn’s soft mane. “I’m the one that’s going to be putting up with you. You wouldn’t last a day without me.”

The unicorn stepped away and, with one last glance at them both, walked back into the forest. It was gone in seconds, and Merlin felt an odd sense of loss.

Arthur wrapped his arms around his waist, hugging him tight. “No. No I wouldn’t.”


	17. Day Seventeen: High Priestess.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, Prince Arthur Pendragon, King Arthur Pendragon, magic reveal, soul bonding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, yes, I know it's a day late, but to be fair, this oneshot just kept getting bigger and bigger and I couldn't get it done in time. So today you get an extra long fic, and tomorrow you get two. I hope you enjoy! :D

“You were born of magic.”

It echoed in his head, over and over again, as he stared at the place where his mother had been. He was aware of Merlin off to the side, knew Morgause was waiting for a response. He couldn’t give her one.

She seemed to realise he wasn’t going to say anything. “I’m truly sorry that your learnt of your mother's fate in this way. I can only imagine how it must feel to discover your father is responsible for her death. It is an unforgivable betrayal.”

An unforgivable betrayal. Yes, this was unforgivable. His father had killed his mother. He’d _murdered_ her! He’d gone to a sorceress and traded her life in an instant, all for an heir to carry on the Pendragon line.

His father had always refused to tell him how his mother had died. Most said she had died in childbirth. Others had whispered that magic had killed her, and that was the reason the king hated magic so much. Arthur had never paid those whispers much attention – he hadn’t believed them.

Perhaps he should have.

Morgause went to move away, and Arthur grabbed her arm on instinct. She looked up at him, caution and something else in her eyes that Arthur couldn’t place. He didn’t see any guilt, saw no lies. He let her go, hands shaking.

“Thank you.” He said hoarsely. “For letting me see her.”

Morgause nodded once, sharply. Then she was gone, as quickly as his mother, and Arthur was left feeling lost and raw. Betrayal still stung sharply in his chest, but it was like the anger was bubbling far below the surface of his skin – there but not yet explosive, like he knew it was going to become.

“Are you alright?”

Arthur almost jumped out of his skin. He’d forgotten Merlin was there. Loyal Merlin, who looked so concerned Arthur almost missed the shock and anger in his eyes. It made the fury in him soften slightly.

“Arthur?” Merlin asked, resting a hand on his arm.

Arthur grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “Go fetch the horses. We’re returning to Camelot.”

Merlin hesitated, then nodded cautiously. Arthur watched him go, then turned to where his mother had been.

_Do not let this knowledge change you. _

But how could he not? This knowledge changed everything.

* * *

They arrived in Camelot later that day, and Arthur could still feel the anger bubbling. It got worse the closer they got to the castle, and he knew the instant he saw his father he would snap. He slid off his horse and grabbed his sword, hands gripping the hilt so hard his knuckles turned white.

Merlin walked up beside him. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” Arthur said honestly.

He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to know what he would do, because he knew whatever it was, it wouldn’t end well. He saw Gaius appear at the steps leading into the castle, and suddenly his anger flared higher than ever before. Because Gaius was his father’s best friend, for all that it went unacknowledged. He had been there at Arthur’s birth, and had studied magic before it was banned – there was no way he hadn’t known.

“Merlin, Arthur. I’m relieved to see you both safe.” Gaius said, like Arthur’s entire world hadn’t been turned on its head.

Merlin stiffened beside him. He must have figured it out too. He stormed past Gaius, not even sparing him a glance, and Arthur followed behind him. They stopped at the base of the castle steps, near the wall and away from prying ears, Gaius frowning at the two of them.

Merlin spoke first. “Arthur was born of magic. Wasn't he?”

Gaius’s whole body seemed to freeze up. His eyes flickered to Arthur’s, like he was expecting him to deny it, or arrest his manservant on the spot for daring to suggest such a thing. Arthur did neither of those things. He simply stood, his rising fury leaving him mute. He felt like if he said anything, if he dared to move a muscle he would storm up to the council chambers and run his father through.

“Uther used magic.” Merlin accused, glaring at the wall.

Gaius’s eyes flickered to him again. “Merlin…”

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Arthur asked, because suddenly he desperately wanted Gaius to deny it, to let him go back to his ignorance, but the old man simply stood there, looking helpless.

“All those people he's executed.” Merlin said angrily, and god, there had been _so many_ people. “He's as guilty as they are!”

“He sacrificed my mother.” Arthur said, and hated how his voice shook. “He as good as murdered her, all because he couldn’t stand not having an heir. For the _Pendragon dynasty_.”

He all but spat the last words, and a dark part of him was satisfied when Gaius flinched, though it calmed his fury none.

“How could you not tell me?” He hissed, and saw the question in Merlin’s own eyes, in the tilt of his head and the hurt sharpening his jaw.

“It was not my secret to tell.” Gaius whispered, like something in him had broken. “And I feared what you might do if you ever found out.”

“Well I’ve found out now.” He growled, and the last of his control snapped.

He stormed away from the both of them, sword still gripped tightly in his hand, and didn’t stop moving until he was standing outside of the council doorway. His fury sharpened, and it almost felt like he was in a dream, hazy and unreal, even as his focus zeroed in on his father’s voice, audible even through the thick wood.

He shoved the door open, hard enough to make it slam on the opposite wall. At some point Merlin had made his way back to his side, Gaius trailing silently behind him.

His father looked up from the papers on the table, and the pure stab of betrayal almost sent him to the ground.

“Arthur.” His father said, and it _hurt_. “Where have you been? I have had search parties out looking for you.” He couldn’t say anything, couldn’t get it out past the lump in his throat. Concern fluttered over his father’s face. “Arthur?”

“I know what you did.” He finally ground out. “To my mother.”

Immediately Arthur could see his father tense. “Leave us. No one is to enter.”

Leon, who Arthur hadn’t even noticed was in the room, bowed his head and headed for the door. Gaius was already standing outside of them. Merlin, still by his side, refused to move. Not even the full force of the king’s glare could make him budge.

Arthur thought then that perhaps he was the bravest man in the whole world, admiration beating warm in his chest.

His father opened his mouth, but Arthur beat him to it. “He stays.”

“Arthur…”

“He stays.” Arthur repeated, firm, a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “He already knows, anyway.”

His father tensed all over again. “What are you talking about?”

He squeezed him hand, the one around his sword, and was glad for Merlin’s unwavering support by his side. He had no idea what he would have done without the other man there to hold him back from doing something he’d regret.

“You were so desperate for an heir, you were prepared to use magic.” He accused.

His father’s face scrunched up in disgust. “Did Morgause tell you this? She's lying.”

Arthur shook his head. “My mother is dead because of your selfishness and arrogance. Her blood is on your hands!”

Merlin’s hand covered Arthur’s, still in his shoulder, and squeezed gently. Arthur belatedly realised he had been holding too tightly in his anger. He let him go completely, immediately feeling lost and dangerous.

“No, that’s not true.” His father lied, as if Arthur could ever believe him again. “Morgause would have you believe it-“

“This is what fuels your hatred for those who practice magic.” He said slowly, like he was only just figuring out what he had known for hours. “Rather than blame yourself for what you did, you blame them.”

His father went red. “You would believe a sorcerer's lies over the word of your own father?” He was shifting the subject – shifting the blame. It made Arthur’s anger rise higher than he’d ever thought possible. “I can only think that Morgause has enchanted you.”

“You hunted her kind like animals!” Arthur snarled, held in place only by Merlin fingers gripping his sleeve. “How many hundreds have you condemned to death to ease your guilt?”

How many had he watched die? How many had he condemned, how much innocent blood did he have on his hands? For this man – this man who had lied to him and the kingdom, who continued to lie when faced with the truth.

“Those who practice magic will stop at nothing to destroy us!” Uther yelled, and Arthur wondered how many of those people had been grieving for a loved one lost to the king’s hypocrisy. “I have only done what is necessary to protect this kingdom!”

Arthur shook his head again. “You speak of honour and nobility! You're nothing but a hypocrite and a liar!”

“I am your king, and your father. You will show me some respect!” Uther snapped, and Arthur was finished with this conversation.

Uther would never admit it, but Arthur knew the truth, knew he was right, knew his _mother_ was not the one that had lied to him. He wrestled with the buckle on his gauntlet, intent on _finishing _this, on bringing this man to justice.

Merlin gasped, the first sound Arthur had heard him make since they had entered the castle. It gave him pause, and when Merlin’s long fingers wrapped around his wrist, holding the gauntlet in place, Arthur knew what he was saying. He didn’t know _why_ – Uther deserved this, and more. A quick and honourable death by the sword was a greater mercy than he had offered any of the magic users he had executed over the years.

Uther saw the motion and paled, knowing what Arthur was trying to do. “Have you lost your mind?”

Arthur wanted to scream. _He_ was not the one that had lost his mind. That title fell on Uther’s shoulders, and Uther’s shoulders alone.

“Arthur.” Merlin murmured, voice low and incredibly soft. “No.”

And just like that, Arthur stopped trying to rip his gauntlet off. His anger, so sharp he could taste it on his tongue, retreated slightly. Just enough for him to breathe again, and no more than that.

“It would be easy.” He said lowly, because it was true. “You heard what my mother said. After everything he has done, do you believe he deserves to live?”

“Your mother?” Uther whispered faintly, but Arthurs attention was on Merlin.

“This isn’t the way Arthur. You know that.” Merlin squeezed his hand, still around Arthur’s wrist. “If you kill him now, like this, the kingdom will be destroyed. People will believe you took the throne for power, and others still will claim Morgause enchanted you.”

Merlin was right. Merlin was, infuriatingly, always right. His grip on his sword slackened, and he let its tip fall to the ground.

“You will abdicate the throne to me.” Arthur said quietly. “And you will admit your crimes and face trial. The people deserve know the truth about what you’ve done.”

“Arthur.” Uther started. “You are my son-“

“I no longer think of myself as your son.” Arthur cut him off, feeling the truth of it in his bones. “You will abdicate the throne to me, this very instant, or I will kill you where you stand, consequences be damned.”

Merlin shifted closer to him until their sides pressed together, a comfort and a grounding point all in one. He thought, for the hundredth time, how thankful he was that he was by his side through this.

“You are not ready-“ Uther tried, but Arthur held up a hand, silencing him instantly.

“I am more than ready.” He said, steady and sure, even though it was the furthest thing from the truth. “You have caused so much suffering and pain. I cannot let it continue, not now I know the truth.”

“And how did Morgause know this truth?” He asked, a last ditch effort to save himself. “How can you be so sure that it wasn’t all a lie?”

“Because.” Arthur said, thinking back to his mother’s face, her words. “She wasn’t the one that told me. She conjured Mother’s spirit, and she told me everything.” He was shaking, a find tremor running through his hands. He knew Merlin could feel it, and he didn’t care. Merlin wouldn’t judge him for his weakness. “She told me that she couldn’t conceive, and that you were so desperate to continue the family line that you betrayed her and went to a sorceress for help. You traded her life for mine and then blamed an entire people for your own actions.”

Uther was shaking too now, Arthur could see it, and the horror in his eyes should have made him feel something, he was sure. Cold satisfaction, maybe, or even regret or sorrow, from the pieces of his heart that would always love the man he had called father. But there was nothing besides a bone deep weariness, and he sighed.

“Abdicate the throne.” Arthur said. “You have two hours. After that, I will take matters into my own hands.”

And with that he turned and walked out of the room, Merlin tugged along with him since he refused to let go of his grip on Arthur’s arm. Arthur looked at him, and hoped his gratitude showed in his eyes. If the answering nod he got was anything to go by, than Arthur thought it did.

* * *

“Is it true?” Morgana asked, after having stormed into his chambers without any warning. “Did you order Uther to abdicate the throne to you?”

Arthur sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Yes.”

He knew he should have made Merlin stay with him. Of course Morgana came to interrogate him while his manservant had slipped out of the room to get them dinner – Arthur had been a fool to think she would let such an opportunity pass.

She gasped, clearly shocked. “_Why_?”

Arthur sighed and motioned for her to sit down. He told her what had happened, withholding nothing, and he watched as she grew furious and then sad and then furious again over the course of his tale. At the end of his story she reach for his hand and gripped it gently.

“You did the right thing.” She said, then her eyes lit in anger. “Though I would have ran him through on the spot. I don’t- I mean, I knew he was- but to be so utterly _hypocritical_-“

“I know.” Arthur said, hands curling into fists. “I know.”

They fell into silence. Morgana withdrew her hand and glared into the fire, and Arthur could have sworn it blazed higher under her gaze. He flinched, ever so slightly, but Morgana didn’t seem to notice, too lost in her thoughts. Then Merlin opened the door, a tray of food in his arms, and sighed.

“You know?” He asked Morgana, and she jerked her head in a rough nod.

“We’ve an hour.” Arthur said, watching the sun set through his window. “Morgana. Will you join us for dinner?”

Morgana smiled, tight lipped. “Yes, I think I will.”

So Merlin brought over an extra goblet from Arthur’s desk, and the tree of them sat down, abandoning plates and spoons entirely in favour of simply picking at the food. They spoke little, but that was alright. For now it was enough that he could sit in this room, with the people he trusted, as the world around them fell apart.

* * *

Uther had signed the necessary papers. He had talked to the council members, though what exactly he had told them Arthur wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. Merlin had helped him write a speech that would explain everything – the truth would not stay hidden for much longer. Arthur would make sure of it.

He took the signed papers and added his own signature.

Uther looked awful, as if he had aged ten years in the past two hours. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, and his clothes and hair were a mess. He was nothing like the king Arthur had seen him be all his life – and indeed, he wasn’t the king anymore. That responsibility fell on Arthur’s shoulders now, and he was determined to bare it with more justice and honour than Uther had ever done.

* * *

That night, Arthur all but fell into bed.

He had given his speech to a silent crowd of people gathered below the castle’s balcony, in the very place so many executions had been held. It had made his stomach twist just standing there, but he had persevered, his voice strong and loud, just a he had been taught.

The people were silent after his revelation. He left some details out of the story, but he told his people all the things they needed to know – about his mother, what Uther had done, and how magic was not the absolute evil the old king had claimed it to be. The crowd accepted the information quietly, and when Arthur turned to go back inside, Merlin followed closely behind hmi. He’d never known a group of people to stay so silent after a speech, but it felt fitting. They were all shocked, no doubt, and the questions and yelling would soon come.

He rolled on his bed, sighing dramatically as he buried his face in his soft pillows and closed his eyes. Merlin was moving around the room, doing something, but Arthur was content to ignore him. He felt fragile, like he might break at any moment, and he desperately did not want to break. He was king now, or would he soon, after the coronation in a few days’ time, and he couldn’t afford to break.

Especially since it felt like if he did he might never pull himself back together.

“Arthur?” Merlin’s soft voice questioned, and god, he wanted to cry. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine Merlin.” Arthur lied into his pillow. “You’re dismissed.”

It was silent for a moment, and then Arthur felt a tugging at his boots. He looked down at Merlin, wondering how he had moved to his bedside so quietly. He was never quiet.

“I need to find Morgause.” He said suddenly, more to have something, _anything_, to say. “And I have to send letters to the other kingdoms, tell them of my coronation. I want to make a peace treaty with the druids, as well. They’re a peaceful people, and they know more about magic than anyone else, they can teach us about it. And then there’s the magic ban – I have to change it, or get rid of it completely, I don’t know.”

He was rambling, and they both knew it, but Arthur couldn’t stop and Merlin didn’t look like he wanted him to. There was a strange look in his eyes, and Arthur almost thought he caught the glimmer of tears.

“You don’t have to do any of that tonight.” Merlin said before Arthur could say anything else. “Tonight you need to rest. Let tomorrow come to deal with those things.”

Arthur smiled, and wondered how he’d ended up with such a kind and loyal friend.

And that, it seemed, was enough to break the dam, because suddenly tears were falling down his cheeks in rivers. He hid his face in the pillow again, even as Merlin pushed himself up and to his side. Arthur felt him hesitate for a second, and then two _thunks_ hit the floor and an arm was wrapped around him.

He held back, resisted, for just a moment, before giving in, throwing an arm around Merlin in return. His friend made quiet, soothing noises, and a hand smoothed gently up and down the hair on his head.

It had all simply been too much, all at once, and Arthur needed this. So he laid in Merlin’s arms and cried until he fell asleep, his arms still wrapped tightly around Merlin’s waist.

* * *

He woke up in the middle of the night. The first thing he noticed was, of course, the warm body next to his. It was hard to miss, seeing as Merlin’s open eyes were directly in front of his face.

“I have magic.” Merlin whispered.

Arthur blinked.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before now.” Merlin continued.

Arthur started into his eyes. He had beautiful eyes, Arthur realized, and abruptly he wondered what they’d look like alight with magic. Perhaps he’d ask, in the morning proper, when they talked about this again. Right now, he simply felt tired and maybe a little bit awed. Of course his idiot manservant had magic. His idiot manservant, who lived in Camelot and unflinchingly stared down the king that killed his kind on the regular.

He reached out with one hand and cupped Merlin’s cheek. The other man closed his eyes, and Arthur felt a horrible sense of saddens wash over him. How much had he had to hide, because of Uther’s laws? No more.

“Thank you.” Arthur said, trying to pull his thoughts together enough to answer. “I’m sorry you didn’t feel you could tell me before.”

Merlin shook his head, but smiled tentatively. “You’re not mad?”

Arthur pulled Merlin close and pressed a kiss to his forehead, then tucked Merlin’s face against his chest. “I’m not mad. I promise.”

Merlin relaxed and all but melted into him. Arthur had decided a long time ago that he would die for Merlin in a heartbeat, but in that moment, he swore he would change the world for him. Because if he had magic, if such a kind and brave person could exist with magic inside of them, then Arthur knew without a shadow of a doubt he was doing the right thing.

He fell asleep again, content, and swore to tell Merlin those thoughts in the morning.

* * *

He hardly remembered his coronation.

Geoffrey had spoken to the gathered knights and nobles, and a few servants among the crowd, and Arthur had repeated them back, sworn to rule and protect the land with mercy and justice. Uther wasn’t there, but if he were Arthur would have glared at him as he swore it. As it was, there was only Morgana, standing off to the side and just barely within this sight. She was beaming, proud, and Arthur felt his confidence rise.

The crown settled, heavy on his head, and he turned to face his people. For a moment all was silent, and Arthur held his breath. Then he locked eyes with Merlin, and suddenly the room was filled with the cheer of _long live the king_, Merlin’s voice the loudest of all.

That moment was ingrained in his memory, and he knew he’d never forget it.

* * *

The first order of business, now that Arthur was King, was repealing the ban on magic. The council were quiet as he explained why magic wasn’t evil – as he explained what Uther had done. A few looked skeptical, but Arthur was firm, and Uther had been restrained to his chambers until his trial. The evidence was in Arthur’s favour, and everyone knew it.

In the end, it came down to Merlin and, surprisingly, Morgana, to change their minds.

Merlin and Gaius had been coming to his chambers each night, telling him all they knew about magic. Arthur had learned a lot the past week, more than he had ever thought there was to know about magic. Gaius was a patient teacher, answering Arthur’s every question, while Merlin regaled him with his own experiences, ones that Arthur sometimes had trouble believing. He knew they were true though – there were no more lies between them, not anymore.

It was Merlin’s idea, in the end, to prove to the people that magic could be used for good.

“It’ll help show those asses on the council are just being stubborn.” Merlin argued when Arthur told him that he should stay out of it.

“And it could get you killed.” Arthur deadpanned, frustrated at Merlin’s stubbornness more than anyone else’s in that moment.

“You wouldn’t let anything happen to me.” Merlin dismissed, picking at Arthur’s lunch.

“I would do my best to stop anyone from hurting you.” Arthur slapped his hand away and grabbed his wrist. “But I cannot stop everyone. And beyond that, you’re going to lose friends because of this. There will be people you care about that will turn on you because of their fear.”

Merlin’s eyes were sad, but resigned. “I know Arthur. I’ve always known that.” Arthur was struck, suddenly, with just how alone Merlin had been, forever hiding such a large part of himself. “But I want to do this. We need to change things, and the easiest way to do that is to show what magic can do.”

Arthur went silent and slid his arm down to Merlin’s hand. “You’ve never actually shown me your magic.”

Merlin tensed under his hand. “I didn’t know if you wanted to see it. You never asked.”

“I didn’t know if I could.” Arthur said.

Merlin’s lip twitched up. “Of course you could.”

Arthur smiled and lifted Merlin’s palm up between them. “Will you show me?”

Merlin glanced down at their hands and said something Arthur didn’t understand, and a small orb of light gathered, resting in Merlin’s palm for a moment before it rose into the air. He stared as it spun lazily around the room, a beautiful mix of pale blue and milk white.

“Beautiful.” He whispered, unable to help himself.

He saw Merlin flush, the tips of his ridiculous ears going bright red. “It’s nothing.”

They sat in silence for a while, before Arthur sighed. “You will be careful, won’t you?”

Merlin grinned the grin that Arthur knew meant troubled. “I’m always careful.”

Arthur had shaken his head, but he didn’t stop Merlin the next day when he used magic in front of the entire council. A few lords fell out of their chairs in shock, and the knights guarding the room all grabbed the hilts of their swords. Merlin paused and looked at Arthur, the jug of wine still floating next to him, Arthur’s newly filled cup setting itself down on the table.

Arthur held his hand up, stopping the guards in their tracks. “Merlin has been by my side for almost two years now, and in that time he has saved my life and the whole of Camelot numerous times. And he has done this by using magic.” He stood and tapped the paper in front of him – the repeal on the magic ban. “The ban will be repealed. Today.”

“Sire…” One incredibly brave, incredibly stupid lord said hesitantly.

Arthur turned to glare at him. He opened his mouth to silence him when the council doors slam open. Everyone in the room jerked towards the door, and Arthur frowned as Morgana strode into the room.

“My lords.” She said as she stopped at the end of the table.

“Morgana.” Arthur said, nodding his head. “Is something wrong?”

Morgana drew herself up. “You are discussing repealing the magic ban, correct?”

“We are.” Arthur said, glaring at the lord again.

Morgana nodded, determined. “I think I can help you come to a decision, my lords.”

Arthur frowned, and was about to ask what the hell that was supposed to mean, when Morgana’s eyes turned bright gold and all the flames on the various torches around the room flared so high they almost touched the ceiling. The whole room seemed to freeze, and Arthur watched the fear grow in Morgana’s eyes as the fire returned to normal.

He cleared his throat pointedly, drawing the attention back to himself, even as he held Morgana’s gaze and refused to drop it. “As I was saying. The ban will be repealed, today.”

The lords all murmured their agreements, and within minutes the papers were signed and the ban was no more.

He gestured for Morgana and Merlin to stay as everyone else left the room. Merlin looked as bright as the sun, and Arthur, strangely, wanted to pull him into his arms and never let go. That would have to wait, however, because there was someone else that needed his attention more.

He pulled Morgana into his arms, and said nothing when she started crying into his shoulder.

“I’ve been so afraid.” She whispered. “You have no idea-“

Arthur did his best to sooth her, running his hand gently through her hair. “You’re safe now. I swear it Morgana, you’re safe.”

She pulled back, a watery smile on her face. “I know.”

When she left, Merlin was waiting for him, still beaming. In the rare moment of peace and privacy, Arthur gave in and pulled him into a hug. Right here, right now, everything felt like it was getting better. And Arthur knew that it was only the beginning.

* * *

Uther’s trial was over quickly. Arthur sat on the throne, Morgana by his side, as the old king knelt on the floor and confessed to everything. There was no doubt of his crimes, and Arthur knew such crimes required punishment.

He stripped Uther of his titles and his land, made sure he was left with nothing. Uther bowed his head as Arthur passed his judgement. He didn’t protest when Arthur ordered him escorted from the room. He would let him stay in the castle, but the king’s chambers were his now. He watched him go and sighed in relief. It was done, and now he could truly begin his reign.

* * *

“You ready?” Morgana whispered, standing regally beside him in her red dress.

Arthur fought not to fidget with his cape. “Yes Morgana.”

“Are you sure?” She sounded like she was fighting back giggles. “You look like you’re about to keel over.”

“_Shut up_ Morgana.” He hissed.

Then Merlin appeared, bright as the sun in his new outfit, the gold and white dazzling in the morning sun. Arthur was almost convinced he was glowing – this was the Isle of the Blessed, after all. The place was one of the most magical in all of Camelot, and it certainly looked it now, after two years’ worth of rebuilding.

Merlin reached his side and inclined his head slightly. They both turned to Morgana, and a hush fell over the area.

Morgana stood behind the alter, a long red cloth in her hands and a jewelled cup filled with deep red wine on the alter. She rose the cloth up and said a few words in the Old Religion, loud in the sudden quiet. Gold lit up the cloth, weaving through the red in intricate patterns. Morgana brought it down and held it towards them. Merlin placed his hand in the centre, over the pattern of a falcon, and Arthur placed his hand next to his, where a lion roared proudly.

Morgana glanced at them both, then started wrapping the cloth around their hands, over and over until gold and red wound all the way up his arm. He could still move his hand, just, and turned it so it he could intertwine his fingers with Merlin’s.

“Under the eye of the Triple Goddess we stand witness today to the binding of these two souls.” Morgana voice rang clear and true, and Arthur saw Morgause nodding along proudly. “We pray their union will be long and blessed with happiness, for as long as the Triple Goddess wills it.”

The gold in the fabric shined brightly, then the designs started moving, melting down his arm and into the palm of his hand. Merlin’s half of the cloth did the same, and Morgana nodded and pushed the cup towards them.

They reached for it together, their hands curling around the cup and lifting it between them. He stared into Merlin’s eyes as he took the first sip, and the gold in Merlin’s palm faded. Then Merlin lifted it to his own lips, and for a second his eyes glowed with magic as the gold that had gathered in Arthur’s palm, too, faded into the wine.

Arthur immediately felt the connection form. It was like he could feel Merlin heart beating next to his, a constant _thump thump thump_ he didn’t know how he had ever lived without. Their emotions would be shared later, he knew, when the bond had developed more. It wasn’t as scary a thought as it had been before.

Morgana unwound the cloth from their hands and the ceremony was over with a few more magic words, and this time Arthur recognised ‘love’ and ‘blessing’, though the rest were still a mystery to him.

He grabbed Merlin’s hand and turned to face their friends and family, their people, and raised their joined hands for all the see. The outline of a lion glowed on the back of Merlin’s hand – a falcon on Arthur’s. The crowed broke into applause and cheers, and celebrations quickly broke out, with food and drink and music seemingly appearing out of thin air.

Knowing Morgause, perhaps it had.

Morgana ran to her sisters’ side, asking a million questions, making sure she had done everything right, as she always did. Arthur didn’t know what she worried about. Morgana was a _natural_ at everything magic, almost better than Merlin, and he didn’t think he’d ever seen her unable to cast a spell properly after her third attempt.

Merlin and Arthur were quickly swarmed by their friends and family. They both got a kiss on the forehead from Hunith, and a fatherly hug from Gaius. Gwen kissed their cheeks, and each of the knights thumped their backs heartily. Gwaine, the scoundrel, wrapped an arm around Merlin’s shoulders and started whispering in his ear, something that made his ears go bright red. Merlin shoved him off, only to get his hair ruffled mercilessly by Leon, and somewhere in the following struggle their hands slipped apart.

Arthur didn’t mind. He could still feel Merlin’s heartbeat, steady and strong next to his.

It was a few hours later, when everyone was loose and free from the drink and music, that Uther approached him.

He was wearing an old blue cloak, the hood drawn up, though whether it was to fend off the chill or hide his face Arthur wasn’t sure. Uther wasn’t welcome in many celebrations anymore, a fact the old man knew full well. Why he had shown up today, to Arthur’s bonding ceremony, he wasn’t sure. He hadn’t been present when Arthur had married Merlin three years ago.

“Arthur.” Uther greeted.

Arthur tilted his head, watching him out of the corner of his eye. “Why are you here?”

Uther sighed, a long and bone weary thing. “It is a beautiful night for a bonding ceremony. The last time I saw one I was just a boy.” Arthur waited, silent. He would get to the point, eventually. He always did. “That one ended in heartbreak and a dead family.”

“What happened?” Arthur asked, curious, though he didn’t want to be.

“The bond was too much. It drove them mad.” Uther looked troubled, and after all these years something still twinged in Arthur’s heart to know he was concerned about him.

“They mustn’t have been a good match.” He said, eyes finding Merlin as he spun in a circle, Mordred and Gwaine spinning with him, the three of them happy and laughing.

“They thought they were.” Uther said gravely.

Arthur sighed. “And your point?”

Uther shrugged. They both knew what his point was. It didn’t matter. The fates themselves had prophesied this – they were two sides of the same coin. Emrys, and the Once and Future King. They would always be together, bond or no bond.

“Your mother would be proud.” Uther said suddenly, and Arthur tensed. Even now, the memory of her, of their one and only meeting, made pain spike through his heart. “She would be so proud.”

It hurt less, then, as Arthur considered Uther’s words. “Do you think?”

“I know so.” Uther said, quiet but firm, and for the first time in a long time, Arthur believed him unconditionally. “You’ve establishes peace across the entirety of Albion in a span of five years, and done so with minimal bloodshed. It’s a dream most all kings have, in one form or another, but you made it a reality. I can’t imagine anything that would make a parent prouder.”

Arthur heard the implication loud and clear. It made his throat block, and for a moment he wondered if he were going to start crying, here in the dark with a man that had become almost a stranger to him in the five years since he became king, but a man he still remembered loving, once. Then he could breath again, and he nodded slightly.

“Thank you.” He said, and then he walked back towards the festivities, leaving Uther alone at the edge of the courtyard.

Merlin grinned when he saw him, and quickly pulled him into a drunken dance, swinging and swaying so much he almost toppled them both over. Then he settled for hugging him close, and Arthur let himself be comforted by the thump of Merlin’s heart against his.

“Okay?” Merlin asked, slurred but as concerned as ever.

“I’m much more than okay.” Arthur drew back and kissed him. “This is perfect.”

He still remembered his mother’s words, all these years later. _Do not let this knowledge change you._ And he hadn’t – the knowledge hadn’t changed him, but it had changed everything else, and Arthur couldn’t be any more thankful that it had.


	18. Day Eighteen: Fire.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, Prince Arthur Pendragon, magic reveal, soul bonding, canon-typical violence, powerful Merlin, protective Merlin, protective Arthur Pendragon, marriage proposal.

“Arthur.” Merlin said, wondering if doing so would leave him with a sword through the middle.

“Shut up Merlin.” Arthur growled, not looking up from the fire.

Merlin clicked his mouth shut so hard his teeth hurt. Arthur had refused to so much as look at him for hours, and it was making Merlin’s heart ache. He missed their banter, their easy friendship, the hints of maybe something more that Merlin was just starting to notice. It was gone now, maybe forever, and all of a sudden Merlin hated how unfair it all was.

It wasn’t his fault he had been born with magic, or that Uther was a hateful tyrant.

He muttered a spell, and Arthur yelled as the fire grew twice its size. He scrambled back, one hand on his sword, and Merlin concentrated on shaping the fire into a large dragon. Arthur looked at him, sword half drawn and body tense, and Merlin wanted to scream.

“Everyday since I arrived in Camelot I’ve used my magic to protect you.” He said, willing Arthur to understand. “I won’t apologise for the way I was born Arthur. Magic is a part of me, and it is no more evil than I am.”

Arthur glanced at the fire again. “You were born with it?”

“Yes.” The fire dragon twisted in the air, mimicking the way Merlin had seen Kilgharrah fly, as best as the chain around his leg let him.“It’s not exactly normal. I’ve never met anyone like me.”

Arthur, at least, dropped his sword. They sat in silence for a while, Merlin playing with the fire mindlessly. The fire dragon flew up and around their heads, then split into hundreds of tiny butterflies, swarming above their campsite like fireflies. He brought the fire back together and formed a gryphon, then the Questing Beast. Only then did Arthur speak, eyes trained on the fire animals.

“You said you wouldn’t apologise for having magic.” He said tightly. “Will you apologise for lying to me?”

“Will Uther apologise for forcing me to?” Merlin snapped back, and the Questing Beast turned into an executioner with his axe.

Arthur flinched when the fire axe swung down and the image changed again, this time into a pair of birds. Two doves, flying around and around each other, close but never touching.

“I never wanted to lie to you.” Merlin whispered, and now it was his turn to refuse to look anywhere but the fire. “But I didn’t have a choice. You would have either killed me or banished me.”

“Would you have gone?” Arthur asked. “If I had banished you?”

“No.” Merlin said instantly. “Camelot is my home.”

“And if I had told my father about you?”

“You wouldn’t have.” Merlin said, sure.

Arthur sighed. “No, I wouldn’t have.”

“That’s part of the reason I never told you.” Merlin said, waving his hand and the doves turned into a unicorn. “I didn’t want to force you to choose between me and your father.”

Arthur made a wounded sound in the back of his throat. “I would have chosen you. Almost from the very beginning, I would have chosen you.”

“I know.” Merlin whispered. “I know.”

The unicorn shrunk into a rabbit that bounced around the clearing, just above the ground. Arthur held his hand out as it bounced towards him, curious even with all of his fear. Merlin smiled and muttered another spell, and the fire turned a calm yellow, the core of it burning white hot as the heat retreated to the rabbit’s belly. Arthur gasped as the rabbit jumped over his fingers, it’s feet passing through his hands without burning.

The fire scattered when it touched him, and reformed into a phoenix that cried silently and flew up towards the trees. Merlin sighed as it disappeared and let the spell dissolve all together.

“What now?” Merlin asked after a few long minutes of quiet.

“Now we go back to Camelot.” Arthur said.

Merlin sucked in a sharp breath. “You won’t try to send me away?”

“You’ve made it clear you wouldn’t go.” Arthur said dryly, then hesitated. “It might be safer for you to stay, considering.”

“Considering that if I die so do you?” Arthur flinched but nodded. Merlin looked down at his hands. “I’m sorry.”

Arthur snorted. “You’re sorry for saving my life?”

“I’m sorry for binding our life forces.” Merlin said, but he eyed the blood on Arthur’s tunic, right below where his heart was beating, and knew he’d do it all over again.

Arthur said nothing, and eventually they both settled down next to the fire for the night. Merlin suspected Arthur didn’t sleep much that night, but neither did he, so he said nothing when the next morning came and they left for Camelot without saying a word.

* * *

Arthur was dying. Arthur was dying, and that was a problem because if Arthur died then so did Merlin.

Arthur cursed himself, Merlin, and Merlin’s self-sacrificing nature all in turn as he stumbled away from the clearing that had turned into a battlefield. Then he cursed his father, and the stupid ban on magic, because if Merlin had been allowed to freely use his powers then none of this would be happening in the first place. Merlin could have saved them all with a few simple words, if only that one action wouldn't immediately lead to his execution.

He hauled himself behind a large rock, the echo of swords clashing reaching his ears. He hated leaving his men to fight on their own, but the battle had almost been won when he was caught off guard and stabbed, through his chainmail and into the soft of his belly. He’d gotten the bandit across the chest in retaliation, but he knew he had to get away before anyone noticed he was injured.

He leaned back on the rock and tried desperately to see his wound. He caught sight of the blood easily enough, bright red and dripping onto the forest floor at an alarming rate. He pressed a hand against it, grunting at the flare of pain.

“Come on Merlin.” He hissed. “Where are you, you useless bloody sorcerer?”

He’d lost sight of him almost the exact instant the bandits had attacked, which he couldn’t understand because they’d been riding right next to each other. There was a scrape on his elbow and a few scratches on his shins that he knew weren’t his, the sting of them almost nonexistent, so Arthur’s best guess was that Merlin had fallen from his horse and then scrambled into the trees to watch the battle from afar, and help in those little ways of his.

The last of the fighting died down and Arthur thumped his head against the rock. His knights would start to worry if they couldn’t find him soon. He tried to think through the pain, but the blood loss was starting to make him dizzy, and he desperately wanted to find Merlin. He had to know he was okay.

A warm feeling wound its way trough his body, starting from his heart and making its way down to the wound in his stomach. He hissed at the feeling of his skin pulling back together, the sting of it lingering even after his wound was completely healed. He shrugged his shoulders gingerly, then pushed away from the rock, picking his sword up from where he had dropped it.

He made his way back towards where they had gotten attacked. His knights greeted him with obvious relief and accepted his story of chasing down a retreating bandit. He glanced around, his worry growing when he failed to spot Merlin. Leon saw his rising panic and stopped it with a hand on his shoulder. He pointed to a nearby patch of bushes, and there was Merlin, smiling sheepishly as a few knights teased him.

Arthur pushed past the knights, intent on getting to Merlin before he did anything else. Merlin grinned as Arthur reached him, then squawked and stumbled when Arthur almost bowled him over with a tight hug. Merlin’s arms wrapped around his back as Arthur buried his face in his neck.

“Thank you.” Arthur whispered.

Merlin relaxed against him. “You’re welcome.”

* * *

Arthur struggled against the hands holding him, glaring up at Cenred. The king of Essetir grinned at him, then turned to where his father was knelt next to him.

“Uther.” Cenred said gleefully. “How wonderful it is to see you again. It’s just a shame we couldn’t met under better circumstances.”

“If you weren’t such a coward we would have met on the battlefield.” Arthur growled.

Cenred’s face went bright red in fury. He stormed back to Arthur and slapped him clear across the face, so hard Arthur would have fallen if it wasn’t for the Essetir knight holding him up. He saw Uther struggling beside him, and was vaguely aware of his father shouting something, but he couldn’t hear it over the ringing in his ears.

Then his stomach lit up in pain, as if someone had punched hard in the gut, and his anger was immediately replaced by worry. His head cleared just in time for him to see a trio of guards drag in a struggling Morgana, stumbling Gwen and limp Merlin. He struggled when they were dumped on the floor beside them, eyes locked on Merlin as he struggled onto his knees. They met eyes for a second, and Arthur relaxed slightly when Merlin nodded to him.

Cenred appeared out of nowhere, grabbing Merlin by the hair and dragging him forward in front of them. Arthur yelled, along with Morgana, as he pulled a knife out and placed it at Merlin’s throat.

“You see, the thing about you Pendragons is that you care far too much for the people beneath you.” There was another commotion at the door, and another knight stormed in, shoving Gaius onto the ground beside his father. “It really makes it ridiculously easy for me to get what I want. I do usually enjoy a challenge, you know.”

“You will get nothing from us.” Uther seethed. “Camelot will never yield to you.”

“Really?” Cenred asked, and in one quick movement he brought the knife down, cutting a deep gash through Merlin’s collar.

Merlin was desperately holding back a cry, Arthur could see it. He glared and screamed at Cenred, ignoring the pain on his own collar, though he couldn’t ignore it when blood stared trickling down his chest. He dared not look down, didn’t want to draw attention to the wound that was so obviously a direct match to his manservant’s, but he was wearing his white nightshirt with no jacket to hide the blood.

Cenred noticed within seconds. “What is that?”

Merlin grunted as he was tossed aside, landing heavily on his shoulder. Arthur’s shoulder twinged, but he ignored it and glared up at Cenred as he drew close. The knight tightened his hold on him as he tried to struggle away from the foreign king’s gloved hand. It was futile in the end, and he hissed as his shirt was yanked down, the fabric dragging on the cut before exposing it for all to see.

He heard everyone’s gasps of surprise and knew immediately that they had figured it out.

“Well well well.” Cenred said gleefully, glancing at Merlin. He hadn’t moved since he had been thrown, facing away from them. “I didn’t expect this.” He laughed and turned to his father. “What could have made the prince turn to magic to bind his soul to his manservants?”

His father looked horrified, his eyes stuck on the red dropping down Arthur’s chest like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Arthur?”

Arthur felt a twinge of pain in his arm, small, like a pinch. He hesitated, then met his father’s gaze calmly, drawing out the moment for as long as possible.

“He had no choice.” He whispered, forcing everyone to lean closer to him. “I was dying.”

Cenred laughed. “So he found a sorcerer and bound your souls? How very touching.”

He started to turn back to Merlin, and the twinge came again, so Arthur quickly continued. “They were your men, weren’t they? I thought it was suspicious. There had been no reports of bandits in the area when I decided to go hunting there.”

“It’s possible.” Cenred hedged, inching back towards him.

“Five months ago. We were near the border, in the Forest of Ascetir, when a group of ten or more men attacked us.” He explained, doing his best to avoid looking at Merlin.

Cenred smiled, a slimy thing. “Ah yes, I remember now. They were common thugs, but I thought perhaps one might get in a lucky hit.”

Arthur tightened his jaw. “One did.” He could still feel it, the sword slicing through him, just barely missing his heart. “Merlin saved my life doing what he did. There was no other option.”

This he said to his father, knowing he wouldn’t understand but willing him to anyway. He couldn’t read the look on his face, his mask in place so firmly not even Arthur could figure out what he was thinking.

“So he found himself a sorcerer that agreed to help you.” Cenred turned, and this time there was no pinch. Arthur’s heart sped up and he shifted on his knees, getting ready. “I wonder, what sorcerer would be willing to help the Crown Prince of Camelot?”

“An incredibly loyal, incredibly brave and incredibly foolish one.” Arthur said, fond.

“What?” Cenred looked at him, seemingly caught off guard by his statement.

Arthur grinned, a sharp twist of his lips. “He didn’t have to look for anyone.”

Cenred’s eyes widened as he finally understood, and he spun back to Merlin, but by then it was too late. His manservant sprung up, fire on his fingertips and eyes glowing gold. He threw Cenred across the room with a single word, then blasted the knight holding Arthur with his fire. Arthur ducked and rolled under it, the warm heat curling around him. In the same instant he grabbed the flailing knight’s sword and slashed at the man holding Morgana.

He moved quickly, cutting down the man holding Gwen, and when he spun around Merlin had taken care of the two holding Gaius and the king, his great fire dragon swallowing both the men in an instant. Arthur moved to Merlin’s side as quickly as he could, keeping his eyes locked on Cenred’s stirring form. Merlin waved his hand and the fire dragon rushed past him, surrounding Cenred on all sides, preventing any escape.

Arthur marched over to him and knocked him out with the hilt of his sword, though he wished he could just run him through for all that he had done. He stood over him, breathing heavily, and didn’t startle when rope snaked over from no where and started tying the foreign king up. Merlin stood beside him, and Arthur discreetly reached out and squeezed his hand, a reassurance to both of them.

They turned as one, and saw Uther now standing and staring at them both with that unreadable look on his face. Gaius and Gwen looked concerned, their eyes flickering between Merlin and the king, while Morgana was focused solely on Merlin. Arthur had to wonder why – she’d always stood up for magic users, but now she was staring at Merlin like he’d betrayed her. Perhaps she felt the same pain that Arthur had, at first, at having been lied to.

His father stepped forward, and Arthur moved in front of Merlin on instinct. “I don’t think I need to remind you that our life forces are bound. We share every pain, and if he were to die, so would I.”

His father, worryingly, said nothing. They stood, trapped in a weird sort of standoff. It was only broken when a dozen of Camelot’s knights spilled into the throne room, weapons at the ready and apparently expecting a fight. They must have finally taken care of Cenred’s men outside.

“Take Cenred to the dungeons.” His father snapped, and then he turned and left the room without a backwards glance.

* * *

“Are we safe, do you think?” Merlin asked later that night, curled up beside him on Arthur’s huge bed.

It was a position they’d become very familiar with over the past five months.

“From my father?” Arthur asked, then shrugged. Merlin made a discontented noise as he was jostled. “I don’t know. He hasn’t killed us, so.” He shrugged again. “Maybe.”

Merlin sighed. “Do you think he would?”

Arthur swallowed, audible in the quiet of his chamber. “I don’t know.” His lips twitched slightly. “I consorted with a sorcerer. That’s a terrible crime, you know.”

Merlin snorted into his shoulder. “Almost as bad as _being_ a sorcerer.”

Arthur nodded. “There’s only one thing I could do that would be worse, and that would probably be to marry you.”

Merlin laughed, then abruptly sat up, trying to stifle his laughter. “Prince Prat–“ Arthur grabbed for his pillow threateningly, and Merlin giggled some more. “I’m sorry, don’t hit me! Prince Arthur Pendragon, would you do me the great honour of marrying me?”

Arthur pretended to think about it, then sighed dramatically. “I suppose you aren’t the worst idiot I could end up with.”

“Oi!” Merlin protested and punched his arm, them immediately sunk down to lay on him again.

Arthur sighed and wrapped an arm around him, getting an elbow to the ribs for his trouble. It was worth it though, when they settled and he could feel Merlin’s heart beating next to his.

“I would, you know.” Arthur whispered into the following silence. Merlin hummed questioningly. “Marry you.”

That made Merlin look up at him, and Arthur could just make out his eyes in the dark. They were soft, and filled with so much love Arthur feared he might drown in it.

“I’d marry you too.” And then, because Merlin couldn’t ever leave well enough alone. “Dollophead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unedited, so please forgive any mistakes!


	19. Day Nineteen: Injured.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, King Arthur Pendragon, Arthur knows about Merlin's magic, canon-typical violence, temporary character death, immortal Merlin.   
Other pairings: Lancelot/Gwen.

Arthur rushed through the halls of the castle, desperation quickening his steps until it felt like he was flying across the stone. Merlin was a dead weight in his arms, and blood seemed to be everywhere, not all of it Merlin’s but enough of it to cause Arthur to panic.

He slammed the door to Gaius’s chambers open, the old man miraculously right behind him, winded and gasping, but determined nonetheless.

“Set him down on the bed.” He panted out, and Arthur rushed to do as he was told.

He set Merlin down on the bed slowly, gently, immediately hating the deathly pale look to his skin. He cupped his cheeks, almost crying aloud when he felt Merlin’s faint breath. He heard the rest of his knights arrive at the doorway, Lancelot and Gwaine venturing into the room while the rest stayed in the doorway. Only Guinevere came to his side, and the instant she saw Merlin she turned to Gaius.

“What can I do?” She asked.

Arthur ripped his eyes away from Merlin’s still form and forced himself to stand. Gaius directed them both, while Lancelot and Gwaine rushed about the room, fining them the herbs they needed and lighting a blazing fire, a pot of water bubbling over the top of it.

Arthur brought the paste Guinevere gave him over to Gaius, who was desperately muttering spell after spell over Merlin in an attempt to heal him. Even from where he was standing Arthur could see it wasn’t working.

He offered the salve and Gaius took it gratefully. “Thank you sire.”

He went about slathering Merlin’s wounds, and Arthur blanched at how many there were. Morgana’s spell had been small but powerful, and Arthur hadn’t even realised what was happening before Merlin was standing in front of him protectively, a thousand tiny knives embedded in his skin. He’d just barely managed to shout a spell that made Morgana fall before he joined her on the ground.

Staring at them now, after the knives had all dissolved into thin air, Arthur had to wonder how Merlin was still breathing. One wound looked like a dagger had gone straight through his heart. Arthur shut that thought down, because he couldn’t lose Merlin.

Not now, on their wedding day.

“Can I help?” Lancelot murmured quietly, and Arthur’s heart leapt.

He might not know much magic, but Merlin and Gaius had been teaching him, and they’d claimed he’d come a long way. Perhaps he could succeed where Gaius, as old as he was, had failed. Gaius waved the knight over and instructed him on what to do, and Lancelot muttered the spells dutifully, hand steady as his eyes flashed orange.

Still, nothing changed, and Merlin continued to bleed out in front of them.

“It’s not working.” Gwaine choked out, and Arthur stopped breathing.

“I fear Morgana’s magic is too strong for us.” Gaius said, voice wavering as he quickly set about wrapping Merlin up in bandages. “We’ll have to wrap his wounds and hope he is strong enough to overcome them on his own. Gwen, my dear, a few of these will need stitches.”

Guinevere nodded and brought a needle and thread over and got to work, and Arthur was left to stand back with Lancelot and Gwaine, helplessly watching as Gaius and Guinevere did their best to help Merlin.

By the time they were finished Merlin was covered from heat to toe in bandages. His chest was the worst; bandages crisscrossed every which way, and Arthur couldn’t spot an inch of skin anywhere. Some bandages were already turning red with blood.

Arthur sat down beside Merlin and gingerly reached for his hand, holding it lightly in his own. The others were ushered out by Gaius, after he let the other knights in to see their friend. Leon leaned over to him and whispered that he’d take care of everything until Merlin was healed. Arthur nodded appreciatively, not taking his eyes off of his husband.

Arthur had no idea how long he sat there for. Gaius moved around the room quietly, glancing at Merlin every few seconds. Arthur simply watched Merlin breathe, hoping and praying that he would just open his eyes.

He didn’t notice at first when Merlin’s chest stopped moving, but when he did he went ice cold with panic.

“Gaius.” He whispered, then louder. “Gaius!”

Gaius stopped what he was doing immediately and rushed over. “Sire? What’s-“

“He stopped breathing.” Arthur shoved out, voice shaking. “Gaius, he’s not breathing!”

Gaius pushed him away and bent over Merlin, desperately muttering and poking at him. Arthur felt the panic rise up his throat, forcing him to choke for air. There was absolute silence for a moment, then Gaius drew back and shook his head.

Arthur made a sound. He wasn’t sure what it was – something raw and something broken – and he flung himself back to Merlin’s side. He desperately tried to find a sign of life, movement, anything, but Merlin was completely still. He was gone.

He was dead.

Arthur gripped Merlin’s limp hand in his tightly, head bowed, as tears slowly fell down his face.

He stayed there for an eternity, and when he looked up the room was full of people. Percival and Elyan stood by the door. Leon stood by Gaius’s desk, his head in his own hands. Guinevere and Lancelot stood at the foot of the bed, holding each other tightly. Guinevere was sobbing hard into Lancelot’s chest, while the knight stood, silent tears rolling down his cheeks, his eyes locked on Merlin’s face.

Gwaine and Gaius were the closest, and Arthur wasn’t sure how he hadn’t sensed them. Gwaine was sat opposite him, Merlin’s other hand in his. He was crying openly, loudly. Gaius was quieter, but his tears spilt without stopping as he stood by Merlin’s head, muttering things to his ward that Arthur couldn’t hear.

Arthur stood, abruptly, and everyone in the room turned to look at him. He couldn’t bare to look at Merlin’s face. He didn’t want to see it still and pale, because that wasn’t Merlin. Merlin was bright and happy and always moving, and Arthur didn’t want to see him so wrong.

He turned to the door, anger growing within him like a raging fire, and he grabbed Excalibur from where it was resting abandoned near the door. Leon stood as he passed him, confusion plain on his face. Arthur pushed past him and only stopped when Percival blocked his way

“Get out of my way.” He grit out.

“No.” Percival hesitated before continuing. “Arthur-“

“She killed him.” He said flatly. “So she will suffer the same fate.”

He heard a chair fall behind him, and suddenly Gwaine was at his back, anger radiating off of him in waves. “Move Percy.”

“Arthur, Gwaine, please. You’re not thinking clearly.” Lancelot tried, and Arthur hated him for it.

Noble Lancelot, the best of them all, and one of Merlin’s best friends. How could he say that, how could he stand there and not desire justice? Or, if Arthur was honest with himself, revenge. He took a step closer to the door, silently daring Percival to try and stop him.

“Sire.” Arthur froze at Gaius’s weak voice. “Please.”

He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to let go of his anger. He wanted to march down to the dungeons and plunge his sword into Morgana’s heart. He didn’t know what he would do afterwards, be it hardly mattered.

A weak cough interrupted the tense quiet. “Wow, I didn’t know I was so popular.”

Everything stopped. Arthur turned slowly, and it was like his whole world had died and then come back to life. For there was Merlin, beautiful blue eyes open and staring at the lot of them gathered around the door. He blinked at them and tilted his head in the way he always does when he’s confused, and that made Gwaine let loose a small cry behind him, and then Arthur was rushing forward and gently pulling Merlin into his arms.

Everyone else crowded around them, crying and yelling a million questions, and Merlin leaned into him heavily. Arthur held his hand up and the noise stopped. Merlin glanced up at him.

“How?” He asked, voice weak and quieter than a whisper.

Merlin chuckled weakly. “Did you really think I’d let a little spell like that kill me?” His smile turned distant and a little sad. “I am magic incarnate, you know. It’ll take a lot more than that to kill me forever.”

Arthur nodded, accepting. He didn’t care about the how, not really. He was just happy to have Merlin in his arms, warm and awake and _alive_. That was enough for him.

“Hey husband.” Merlin whispered later, when everyone was gathered around Gaius’s desk eating, leaving them relatively alone for the moment.

“Husband.” Arthur returned, loving the feel of the word on his tongue. “Don’t ever do that again.”

Merlin sighed. “No promises.”

“_Merl_in.”

His husband grinned. “You hold the only weapon that could ever kill me Arthur. Only a blade forged in dragons fire can destroy me.”

Arthur eyed his sword. “Excalibur?”

Merlin nodded. “I will always come back to you Arthur, for as long as you want me. I swear it.”

Arthur smiled and kissed him. “Then you’ll be here forever.”

Merlin yawned, a grin stretching his lips. “I can’t wait.”


	20. Day Twenty: Parapet.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, King Arthur Pendragon, King Merlin, Arthur knows about Merlin's magic, polyamory, parent Arthur Pendragon, parent Merlin, implied mpreg, fluff.  
Other pairings: Morgana/Gwen/Lancelot, Gwaine/Percival.

Arthur stood on the parapets of the castle, staring out at his kingdom. He could see the people of the lower town moving about down below. The markets were swarming with people, and he spotted Guinevere walking arm in arm with Lancelot and Morgana. A child ran up to them and jumped at Guinevere, almost sending all four of them tumbling to the ground. Arthur laughed as Guinevere scolded him. He would nod and act sorry, but they all knew that wouldn’t stop her son from doing it again the moment his parent’s backs were turned.

“Father!”

Arthur turned just in time to catch the small body that launched at him. He swung them around and joyous laugher filled the air.

“Augus.” He greeted as he settled his son on his hip. “What are you doing up here?”

“I was looking for you!” Augus said.

Arthur’s lips twitched. “Well, you found me.”

Augus grinned proudly, then his eyes caught something above them and he started wiggling and reaching his arms up. “Dad!”

Arthur followed his gaze upwards. He saw a distant shape amongst the clouds, quickly growing bigger, and moved out of the way as Aithusa landed on the parapet next to them. Augus wiggled out of his grasp and flung himself at the dragon, launching into a tale of his day.

Arthur walked to Aithusa’s flank, greeting her briefly, then turned his attention to her back.

“Hello Father!” Laulen yelled, slipping off Aithusa’s back and into his arms.

Arthur set her down and turned back to Aithusa. Merlin grinned down at him and grabbed his hand, sliding down to the ground. Arthur kissed him, a simple peck on the lips, and Laulen made a disgusted noise behind him. He pulled back and saw an amused grin on Merlin’s face.

“And where have you two been all morning?” Arthur asked, raising his eyebrows at his daughter.

“Dad was teaching me how to summon lightning.” Laulen bragged.

Augus immediately turned, a pout on his lips. “I want to summon lightning!”

“You’re too young Augus.” Merlin said gently, leaning into Arthur’s side.

“No I’m not!” Augus protested. “I’m five!”

“So?” Laulen said, hands on her hips. “I had to wait until I reached twelve winters, so do you!”

Arthur quickly intervened, hoping to avoid a full blown tantrum. “Has Gwaine been teaching you any more of his super secret sword moves Augus?”

Laulen eyed him like she knew what he was doing, but let it slide. Augus, to his surprise, shook his head.

“No. Gwaine disappeared with Percival this morning.” He grinned a toothy grin. “I’ve been showing Princess Ludine the gardens! She said she has her own back in Nemeth and that she missed them.”

“That was very kind of you.” Arthur praised, proud that at least he wasn’t rolling around challenging everyone to fight him like he had been at his age.

Augus nodded, then a serious expression overtook his face. “Father. Dad. Are you married?”

Arthur blinked at Merlin. Merlin blinked back.

“Yes.” Arthur said slowly. Where was this coming from?

“Then why don’t you have rings?” Augus asked.

Laulen tilted her head. “Why would they need rings?”

“Because Ludine said that you’re supposed to give each other rings when you get married!”

Laulen pulled a face. “That’s stupid.”

“It is _not_!” Augus yelled, stomping his foot.

Aithusa, who had been quiet for so long Arthur had almost forgotten she was there, snorted. “It does sound a little ridiculous.”

Augus’s face turned a bright red, and tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. Arthur internally winced, knowing what was coming, when Merlin stepped forward and swept the boy into his arms.

“I think it sounds lovely.” He said, shooting a look at Arthur that he knew better than to challenge. “I’ve never heard of it before. It must be a tradition in Nemeth, is that what Princess Ludine said?”

Augus sniffed back his tears. “Yes. She said it bound them together for eternity.”

He struggled with the last word, sounding it out slowly, and Merlin praised him quietly when he finished speaking. Arthur stepped forward until he could wrap and arm around them both, almost squishing Augus between them. His son laughed and shoved at him, struggling to climb around to Merlin’s other side to get away from him.

“Your dad and I didn’t have any rings when we got married, but-“

“You could get them now!” Augus said quickly. “I could make them!”

Merlin smiled gently. “Augus, you don’t know how-“

Augus, however, wasn’t listening. He slipped out of Merlin’s hold and ran to his sister, whispering excitedly in her ear. Laulen rolled her eyes but whispered something back before she brought her hands up. Augus matched her movements, and together they chanted a spell.

Augus hadn’t really grasped magic yet, but his eyes flashed the briefest of golds as the final word of the spell left his lips. Laulen was much more advanced, with much more experience, and her eyes flowed a steady gold for a few seconds before she opened her palm. Augus opened his own, exclaiming excitedly at what he had made.

There was a ring in each of their palms. Laulen’s was refined, delicate, with intricate carvings of flowers and vines engraved into the metal. The silver shone in the sun. Augus’s was, in comparison, large and bulky, a few jagged lines scraped into the side. It almost looked like a dragon, if Arthur squinted, the gold of the metal too bright to properly see it.

Augus bound happily back to Merlin, bouncing on his feet as he held up his creation. Laulen cradled hers gently, admiring it for a moment before she offered it to Arthur.

He glanced to Merlin, watched as he allowed Augus to slip the ring onto his thumb. It was too big for any of his other fingers. He held back a smile and held out his own hand, let Laulen slide it into his ring finger, right above his mother’s ring.

“Now you kiss!” Augus exclaimed gleefully.

Well, Arthur wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to kiss his husband. He leaned over and pulled Merlin close, melding their bodies together as best he could.

“That’s disgusting.” Laulen groaned.

He peeked his eyes open and saw Aithusa roll her eyes as she muttered to herself. “Ridiculous.”

Augus cheered and ran at them, tugging them both down so he could climb up into their arms. Merlin held him in place and Arthur snagged Laulen’s wrist, pulling her into the hug. She sighed loudly but didn’t protest, her arms wrapping around Merlin’s arm and across Arthur’s hand.

Arthur relaxed as he held his family close, perfectly content.


	21. Day Twenty One: Crown.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, Prince Arthur Pendragon, Prince Merlin, arranged marriage, magic reveal, mpreg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back! Sorry for disappearing out of no where, I'm afraid my life just got crazy busy out of no where. I got a new job, a family member got sick enough to end up in hospital, and time just seemed to slip out of my hands. I'm going to be finishing the rest of the days when I can, even if updates bleed into November. And as a bit of an apology, take this super long oneshot I honestly didn't mean to write, it just kinda didn't want to stop. XD Enjoy. <3

“Rise, Prince Merlin Pendragon of Camelot.”

Merlin stood slowly, the weight of a strange crown on his brow. His betrothed – no, husband now – stepped forward and took his hand, then together they turned to the crowd. Merlin caught his mother’s eye. There was a sadness there that he hated, so he forced a smile onto his face. His father, when he glanced at him, was stern faced, but he knew he felt guilty. He shouldn’t.

Merlin was the one that agreed to this, after all. He knew what he was getting into.

His people would be safe now, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

Arthur wasn’t sure what to make of his new husband. He wasn’t bad to look at, he supposed, which was a plus. Unfortunately, that was where everything positive about him ended. From what Arthur had seen of him, he was clumsy, loud mouthed, terrible with a sword and so ignorant of royal etiquette Arthur was beginning to think he had been raised in a barn.

Of course, seeing as his father was the King of the Druids, and they were a nomadic people that lived in tents among the trees, maybe that impression was more accurate than he had originally thought.

It was awkward when they arrived back in Arthur’s chambers – their chambers, now. The celebrations had lasted long into the night, and Arthur was exhausted. George had already turned down the bed when they arrived, and he stripped Arthur quickly and efficiently, bowing once he was in his sleep clothes and slipping quietly out the door. It meant Arthur had to put out the candles, but tonight he didn’t mind.

Merlin was getting dressed on his own, behind a small changing screen in the corner of the room. A trunk full of his things was at the foot of Arthur’s bed, and he resisted the urge to open it and see what was inside. It was probably just druid stuff anyway.

He climbed into bed, making sure to stay as far to one side as he could. He settled, and tried to let the merger amount of wine he’d drunk lull him to sleep.

* * *

Merlin fiddled with the edge of his sleep tunic, wondering if he could just stay behind the little changing screen and sleep there. It seemed infinitely better than joining his new husband on the bed.

He knew, after all, what was expected of newly wed couples on the night of their wedding, and he had no interest in any of _that_. Sure, Arthur was nice to look at – Merlin hadn’t found a fault in his physical appearance, except for slightly wonky teeth that only showed when he smiled – but that wasn’t enough for him. He needed to _know _someone before he would ever consider- but, well, he still knew what was expected of him.

He shook his head slightly. He couldn’t sleep on the floor, temping as it was. The stone of the castle was cold under his feet, nothing like the warmth of the forest, and knowing his luck he’d catch a chill during the night. He eyed the corner of the bed, just visible from where he was standing, and squared his shoulders.

Walking over to the bed, he was surprised to find Prince Arthur curled up on the far side of it, covers pulled up to his ears and his back to Merlin. He swallowed, and realised for the first time that the other prince probably hadn’t had much choice in this whole marriage fiasco either.

“I can feel you staring at me.” Arthur grumbled, voice tired. “Hurry up and get in.”

Merlin did so quickly, any retort he had getting lost as he tucked his cold toes into the blankets. They were warm from Arthur’s body heat, and he almost wished he could scoot closer to warm them up faster. Instead, he turned until his back was facing Arthur’s, a mirror of the other prince’s position.

He hesitated a second, then whispered out. “Goodnight.”

Arthur snorted and shifted. Merlin settled, knowing he wouldn’t get an answer. His eyes slipped closed, and sleep claimed him quickly.

* * *

Arthur groaned awake the next morning, sunlight beaming directly onto his face. He buried his head in his pillow, quietly cursing early mornings. He heard someone snort, and hastily shoved the pillow off of his head.

Merlin was dressed and sitting at Arthur’s table, a small platter of fruits and sweet meats in front of him. Arthur’s stomach grumbled and he forced himself to sit up. Merlin simply watched him as he got to his feet and stumbled across the room until he reached the table and dropped down into a nearby chair.

Merlin chuckled and popped a grape into his mouth. “Not a morning person?”

“Shut up.” Arthur grumbled. “Just. Shut up.”

He was silent for a moment, and Arthur thought he might actually fall back asleep on the table, when something was pushed towards him. He tilted his head slightly and caught sight of a goblet next to his face. He pushed himself up and, when he saw it was full of fresh water, downed it all in seconds.

Merlin watched him, a guarded look in his eyes that Arthur hadn’t seen him without since the day they met. “Hungry?”

Arthur glanced at the tray and scrunched up his nose. “Where’s the meat?”

This, for some reason, made Merlin tense. “I don’t eat meat.”

Arthur frowned. “You… don’t?” Arthur hadn’t met anyone that didn’t eat meat before. “Why not?”

Merlin turned away, shrugging. “I don’t like it.”

A tense pause fell over the room before Arthur shrugged, accepting it. He supposed he’d heard of stranger things. Merlin seemed to relax, and Arthur picked at the tray of foods. A knock sounded at the door, and Arthur frowned as a woman he had never seen before walked in, a pile of clothes in her hands. She looked far too old to be any of the servants in the castle, her hair a shiny silver and back hunched so much she looked like she was almost folded in two where she stood.

He stood up, hand going to where his sword would be if it were strapped to his hip. “Who are you?”

* * *

Merlin’s eyes widened when Ananet walked in, a pile of his clothes stacked neatly in her arms.

“I am Prince Merlin’s maid.” She said, and Merlin did his best not to show his disbelief at the claim. She glared coldly at Arthur. “I’m here with Prince Merlin’s things. Sire.”

_Ananet, what are you doing? _Merlin hissed through mind-speak, worried at the death glare she was giving the other prince.

_Checking on you, of course. _Ananet’s eyes softened when they fell on him, and she quickly gave him a once over. _Are you alright? Did he hurt you?_

Arthur turned to look at him, a question in his eyes. Merlin nodded. Arthur relaxed his stance and sunk back into his chair, picking at the breakfast Merlin had gotten for himself.

“Set them over there please.” He said aloud, gesturing to the trunk full of his things. _I’m fine. He hasn’t so much as looked at me funny._

Ananet raised an eyebrow, unbelieving. _Are you sure?_

_Of course I’m sure. _Merlin tried not to roll his eyes. He failed, and got a scowl for it. _Honesty Ananet, he went to sleep as soon as we left the feast last night, and he was so close to the edge I thought he was going to fall off. _

“Is that everything?” He asked, bending down to look at the clothes she’d brought him.

“Not quite. There’s another chest full of your books, and Queen Hunith has a few things she’d like to give you.” Ananet said, shooting a lighter glare at Arthur’s back. _If he does anything…_

_He won’t. _That, he now knew for sure. In the few scant weeks they’d known each other Merlin had learned that Arthur Pendragon was a spoilt, dollophead of a prat, but he’d also learnt he was incredibly honourable and dedicated to his people. _I wasn’t the only one forced into this marriage, you know. _

Why he’d been so scared last night, he didn’t know. He was sure now that Arthur wouldn’t hurt him. Perhaps it was the daylight – things were easier to see in the light of the sun, after all, where there were no shadows lurking with your every fear coming true in their depths.

_Very well. _Ananet nodded and inclined her head. “I’ll go get your books, sire.”

Merlin smiled. “Thank you Ananet.”

His teacher bowed to him, something she never did, and merely inclined her head slightly to Arthur. The other prince barely seemed to notice. He was frowning into the fire, munching idly on one of Merlin’s sweet meats.

Arthur stood when Ananet closed the door behind her and made his way towards his changing screen. He didn’t say a word to Merlin, didn’t even glance in his direction. Merlin sighed but left him to his thoughts. He wasn’t sure what he’d say anyway.

* * *

Married life wasn’t what he had imagined it would be.

When he was a child he’d often been told stories by his maids. Stories of princes rescuing princesses, of finding the one meant for them and falling deeply in love before getting married and living happily together. They’d told him his parent’s story, how his father had won his mother’s hand and fallen in love so deeply the whole kingdom agreed they’d never seen a pair so dedicated to one another.

Even as he got older, and understood he would have to marry for the good of the kingdom, he still held onto the idea that he could somehow managed to marry for love. After all, his parents had done it – why couldn’t he?

Being married to Merlin was nothing like anything he’d been told. They had almost nothing in common, argued constantly and took every chance they could to provoke each other. It had been a week since they were married, and each day they acted civil in public while, behind closed doors, they bounced between arguing constantly and coldly ignoring each other. Each night they slept as far away from each other as possible, backs to each other.

It was exhausting. Arthur hated it, and wondered if they’d ever manage to get along, or if they’d be doomed to hate each other for the entirety of their time together.

* * *

Merlin hugged his mother tight, wishing he could beg her to stay with him. She might just do it, he knew, and he didn’t want to force her to stay here. His mother loved the forest as much as he did, and he knew living in the cold walls of a stone castle was the last thing she wanted.

It was the last thing he wanted, too, but that didn’t matter anymore.

His mother pulled back and held his head in her hands. “You be careful, understand? Stay out of trouble.”

“You know me Mother.” Merlin teased lightly, grinning. “I never get into trouble.”

She snorted and kissed him on the forehead. Merlin savoured it. He didn’t know how long it would be until he saw he again, after all. She moved away, a few druids coming forward to help her up onto her horse.

His father approached him next, and Merlin fell happily into his arms. He squeezed him tight, and for a moment he felt like a little boy again, safe in his father’s arms. He held on tightly, and almost didn’t let go when his father pulled away. He blinked, and suddenly he was a man again, responsibilities and expectations placed firmly back on his shoulders.

His father clapped his shoulder and squeezed gently. “I’m proud of you son. You didn’t have to do this.”

Merlin pulled on a brave face. “I know father. But I want to keep our people safe, and we both know there wasn’t any other way.”

“No, there wasn’t.” His father’s face twitched, an aborted glance over Merlin’s shoulder at the other king, and his eyes hardened. “If they do anything to you-“

“I’ll send word.” Merlin assured him.

His father nodded. “Ananet will stay with you. You have enough power between you to escape should you need to.” He squeezed his shoulder again. “Do not hesitate Merlin. Run to the forest and stay there. We’ll find you.”

“I know you will.” Merlin said, and knew it was true.

His father nodded and pulled away. Merlin stood back, next to Ananet, and watched as his father mounted his steed. His parents led their entourage out of the courtyard slowly. Merlin raised his hand. His mother was the only one to wave back at him, besides a young boy that Merlin had been teaching basic magic tricks. Their eyes locked, and Mordred’s face pulled down into a frown.

_Goodbye Emrys. _

Merlin did his best to smile. _Goodbye Mordred. _

He stayed there until they were out of sight, a piece of his heart leaving with them.

* * *

Merlin wasn’t happy.

It wasn’t that hard to see. In two months Arthur hadn’t seen him smile once – not his real, happy smile. He smiled in court, a polite smile that gave away nothing. It was a fake smile, and Arthur thought it looked out of place on his face. He often smiled when he was with Morgana, or Gaius, or that strange maid of his, but those smiles all held a lingering sadness to them. For all he pretended to be a happy idiot, Arthur could see better.

And he could see how much it was costing him. It wasn’t unusual for him to enter his chambers and find Merlin there, curled up by the window with a forgotten book in his hands, looking out at the kingdom with a painfully wistful look on his face. Arthur never commented on it, but he saw.

They had fallen into a truce of sorts, and their ribbing had quite quickly turned from hostile to friendly somewhere along the way. Arthur enjoyed their banter, and their not-really insulting insults. He even enjoyed when Merlin would question him and his decisions. It wasn’t often someone did, and it was like a breath of fresh air – exactly what he needed.

And perhaps a more literal breath of fresh air was what Merlin needed in order to cheer up. The man had spent his entire life living amongst the trees – Arthur couldn’t imagine that he liked being cooped up in the castle for so long. He could take him out for a few hours, before dark, and hopefully it would help.

His father frowned when he voiced his suggestion to him. “Why?”

Arthur shifted on his feet. “I have noticed that he is not exactly… happy here, Father. I though he might appreciate a walk through the forest.”

“His happiness is not of importance.” His father said flippantly. “What is important is that he remains with us. The druids won’t dare try anything while we have their prince within our walls.”

Arthur refrained from mentioning that the druids were a peaceful people, and that only a small number fought, and even then only to defend themselves against attacks. It wouldn’t matter.

“Of course Father.” He said instead. “But I’m confident he will not run. We will be back before nightfall, and I will keep an eye on him.”

His father considered it for a moment before nodding. “Very well.”

Arthur bowed and spun, a grin on his face as he went to hunt down his husband.

* * *

Merlin felt alive for the first time in almost three months. The forest buzzed around him, warm and welcoming and _alive_, so much different to the cold dead stone of the castle. He could hear the buzz of animals and bugs all around him, a song he had grown up with that he hadn’t noticed he missed until he heard it again.

The sun was quickly setting, but Merlin chose to ignore it as he followed the sounds of a river. It was just ahead of him, he was sure of it-

“_Mer_lin!” Arthur yelled, that exasperated tone in his voice. “Will you slow down?”

“Can’t keep up?” Merlin taunted, the forest bolstering his spirit. “So much for being the greatest knight in all of Camelot!”

He heard Arthur huff and the sound of bushes rustling. “No, you idiot, the horses keep getting stuck on all these damn bushes you’re leading us through!”

Merlin stopped at that, feeling a little guilty. He backtracked, apologising to the horses and receiving their forgiveness in kind. They were good mounts, fun to talk to, and they understood his desire to run free.

“Apologising to the horses, Merlin? Really?”

Merlin rolled his eyes at Arthur. “Yes, really. They understand what you’re saying, you know, something you’d know if you weren’t such a dollophead.”

Arthur spluttered, leading the horses through the bushes as Merlin held them aside. “A what?”

The horses both snickered, laughing at their prince as Merlin grinned. “A dollophead.”

Arthur shook his head. “There’s no such thing. You’re making it up.”

“I am not!” Merlin lied. “It’s a real word. We use it all the time back home.”

“So it’s a druid word?” Arthur asked, and Merlin nodded. “What’s it mean then? Describe it.”

“In two words?” Merlin didn’t bother hiding his grin. “Prince Arthur.”

The look of outraged disbelief on Arthur’s face made him cackle, and he bolted as Arthur swiped at him, running to the river that was now in clear view. Arthur dropped the horses leads and the two of them started grazing. Merlin thought he heard one of them mutter something about ridiculous humans, but he was too busy trying to outrun Arthur to pay much attention.

Arthur, of course, caught him eventually. Merlin’s training had almost exclusively been regarding magic, with only a small amount of time dedicated to teaching him basic self defence. Arthur caught him by the wrist and yanked him back, causing them both to fall and tumble into the river.

They dragged themselves out of the water, Merlin’s sides hurting from how hard he was laughing. Arthur looked like a drowned rat, blond hair sticking to his face, and it only made him laugh harder. He collapsed on the dry ground, still gasping out a few giggles, and before long Arthur fell down next to him, not exactly laughing but clearly amused.

Merlin calmed down eventually. He found himself staring up at the sky, going pink and orange from the sunset. He sighed. He didn’t want to go back to the castle, but he knew it was unavoidable. This afternoon had been amazing, and Merlin would treasure it, but it had to come to an end, as all things did.

“Thank you.” He blurted out suddenly.

“Hmm?” Arthur hummed. He looked like he was seconds away from dozing off.

It made Merlin smile, for some reason. “For bringing me out here. I know you didn’t have to.”

Arthur opened his eyes, and for a long time he said nothing. Merlin watched him back, smile slowly fading as something else, something new, welled up inside him. He looked away quickly, unable to hold Arthur’s gaze for long.

“You’re welcome.” Arthur said, hushed. They were silent for a while, unmoving, before Arthur spoke again. “It’s good to see you smile again.”

Merlin’s eyes snapped back to Arthur’s face, and he immediately noticed the flush there. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just…” Arthur cleared his throat awkwardly and sat up. “I noticed I hadn’t seen you smile these past two months. It was always fake, or incredibly sad.”

Merlin looked down at the ground. It was true. Merlin hadn’t been happy, but he’d thought he’d been doing a reasonably good job of hiding it. No one had ever hinted that they knew, though he was confident Ananet had guessed. She was probably feeling the same way.

“I missed the forest.” He admitted quietly. “I’ve never lived in a castle before. It’s very… small. And I-” His throat closed up, but he forced the words out. “I miss my parents. My friends. I don’t think I’ve ever spent so long without them.”

When he chanced a glance upwards Arthur was staring at him with sad eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Merlin shrugged. “It’s not your fault. I know you were forced into this as well.”

Arthur said nothing. He didn’t need to. They both knew it was the truth.

Merlin stood with a sigh. “Come on. We need to head back now if we want to make it to Camelot before nightfall.”

He held his hand out, and for a moment he didn’t think Arthur would take it. But he did, Merlin hauling him to his feet, and together they made their way back to the horses.

* * *

The trip into the forest had been a huge success, and Arthur swore to himself that he’d find time to take Merlin into the woods as often as possible.

He was also considering other things he could do to keep his husband happy. He knew that the cook had a garden she tended to every morning, and he wondered if she might let Merlin join her. It wasn’t quite the same as the forest, but it was something. There were the castle gardens, of course, and Merlin spent much of his time wondering them, but Arthur thought perhaps having something to do would help keep him from dwelling on all he was missing.

He had also decided to ask for some plants to be brought to his room. Merlin didn’t care for the plucked flowers in their vases, but perhaps he would enjoy a small plant or two in their chambers to take care of.

It was with this idea in mind that he made his way to their room, at a time where he would normally be training his knights. He’d pushed them hard, each of them bravely rising to the challenge, and he’d ended practice early as a reward.

He slowed when he reached the door to his chambers, hearing voices from inside. Not wanting to interrupt he paused outside the door, hand raised to knock. He heard Ananet’s voice, stern and scolding, and then he heard Merlin hastily apologizing. Arthur frowned. Why was Merlin apologizing to his maid?

“You must control it Merlin. I know you know how.” Ananet scolded.

“I’m trying!” Merlin whined. “It’s difficult.”

He heard Ananet’s sigh through the door. “Scrying often is, but you are perfectly capable. Again.”

Arthur’s heart sped up. Scrying. He knew what that was. It allowed someone to see something far away.

It was magic.

It was magic, and Merlin had just managed to do it, if his excited exclamations were anything to go by.

Arthur fell forward onto the door slightly as he listened to Merlin and Ananet have a very illegal discussion about magic and scrying and a whole manner of magical things that Arthur didn’t understand. Not that he understood much anymore. How had he never noticed? How had his father not noticed? Why would Merlin be here- why would King Balinor leave his magical son in Camelot, married to the son of the man that had sworn to eradicate magic and all who used it?

He didn’t understand. Had it all been a plot to kill them? But no, it had been far too long. If Merlin was going to kill them, he would have done so months ago. Arthur had seen how much he missed his home. He couldn’t imagine any reason why Merlin would wait.

But nothing else made sense, and Arthur felt too hurt to try and understand, so he pushed his shoulders back and loudly banged on the door.

The voices inside stopped in an instant. “Just a moment!”

A few seconds passed, then Arthur heard the sound of footprints and a bolt being thrown – they were smart enough to lock the door, at least - and suddenly he was face to face with Merlin.

Merlin, who lit up at seeing it was him standing there. “Arthur! Aren’t you supposed to be training?”

He was so bright. So happy, had been ever since their afternoon in the woods the day before. It made his heart hurt more. He shoved passed Merlin, not saying anything, and threw the door shut behind him, putting the bolt back into place. Merlin made a confused noise in the back of his throat that died when Arthur turned on him, hurt and fury clear on his face.

“You have magic.” He accused.

Merlin went white and started shaking, though he shook his head in denial. Arthur almost snarled. How dare he try and deny it?

“Don’t lie.” He hissed. “I heard you just now.”

“Arthur-“

“Did you come here to kill me and my father?” Arthur ground out, balling his hands into fists to try and avoid doing something he would regret.

“No!” Merlin denied, eyes wide. “Arthur, I would never-“

“Then why else would you agree to marry me?” Arthur asked. “Why else would you _be_ here?”

“Because Uther didn’t give us a choice!” Merlin yelled.

Arthur flinched back. He’d never seen Merlin truly angry before. It was a little bit terrifying, if Arthur was honest.

“My parents tried for years to make peace with Uther. He never accepted any of our treaties, never even wanted to acknowledge our existence” Merlin glared at him as he yelled, his body shaking with the force of his anger. “He hunted our people like animals, claimed that because we followed the old ways we deserved to die.” He turned to the window and looked out at the forest, his arms wrapped around his middle. “And then one day he sends a message to us, claiming he wanted a peace treaty.”

Arthur shifted, suddenly uncomfortable, though he didn’t know why. “You weren’t suspicious?”

Merlin laughed darkly. “Of course we were. We’d be fools not to be. But we couldn’t afford to turn him down. It was a chance for peace- or for our people to stop fearing for their lives, at least.”

Arthur sat down, the anger and betrayal draining away. He knew what happened from there. Merlin and his parents had arrived with a small entourage of druids, and his father had welcomed them and laid down his terms immediately. Arthur had been there, trying not to show how much he hated that he was being married off to some druid prince from the woods.

“So you agreed to marry me.” He said heavily. “For your people.”

Merlin turned around and shrugged, dropping down into a chair next to him. “My mother wanted to refuse. She’d always wanted me to marry for love, no matter who it was, the way she did.” He smiled slightly for a second before it fell. “My father was prepared to deny the deal, but I told him I’d do it. I knew we’d likely never get another chance for a peace treaty with Uther again, and I wasn’t going to waste it.”

It made sense. It made a lot more sense than him waiting for months to kill him and the king. Magic or no magic, Arthur knew Merlin. He was a gentle person – he talked to animals, for God’s sake – and Arthur knew he wouldn’t kill unless he had no other choice.

“Are you going to tell the king?”

Arthur jolted. Ananet had been so silent that he had forgotten she was there. She glared at him now, one hand on Merlin’s shoulder and the other at her side. He wondered if she had magic too. He wouldn’t be surprised if she did – she certainly sounded like she knew how it worked.

He looked at Merlin, and wondered if he could tell his father. Merlin would be executed, Ananet with him, of that he was sure. The fact that he was Arthur’s husband would mean nothing. He imagined standing back and watching as Merlin was killed.

It made him feel sick.

He shook his head. “No. No, I’m not.”

* * *

“You know, I have no idea how you heard Ananet trying to teach me scrying.” Merlin said one day, months later, as they were relaxing in the forest. “I put a silencing spell on the room.”

Arthur hummed, messing with a lock of Merlin’s hair. “Maybe you didn’t do it right. It would make sense, seeing as you’re so useless at everything.”

“Prat!” Merlin exclaimed, elbowing him before settling back against his chest. “It’s actually quite a complicated spell. The wording is hard to get right.”

Arthur huffed in his ear. “Is that right?”

“I’d like to see you try it.” He shot back, and immediately tensed.

Arthur, however, just snorted. “And I’d like to see you actually try using a sword.”

Merlin automatically pulled a face. “No.”

Arthur laughed and nosed at the back of his neck, murmuring words into his skin. “No. You’d probably just impale yourself.”

Merlin wanted to be offended, but he had a point. He settled for a pout, not that his husband could see it.

“You’re the worst and I hate you.” He decided.

Arthur’s laughter rung around the clearing. Merlin wiggled in his grasp, turning, and shut him up with a kiss that quickly changed into something more.

* * *

“Mother!”

Arthur stood back as Merlin all but fell down the stairs and into his mother’s waiting arms. He felt the familiar swell of jealousy, but it seemed small compared to the swell of love and happiness that came with the look on Merlin’s face.

It had been almost a year since they had gotten married – almost a year since Merlin had seen his parents in person. He knew that they exchanged letters regularly, despite his father’s disapproval, and once he’d gotten the hang of the scrying spell Arthur would often find him watching his parents and old friends, hunched over a bowl of water with a smile on his face that slowly turned from pained and sad to happy and only a little wistful as the months went by.

Arthur made his way down the stairs – ignoring the look his father gave him – and bowed respectfully to King Balinor. “Your majesty. It’s an honour to welcome you back to Camelot.”

Balinor nodded to him, guarded. “Prince Arthur. It’s been too long.”

He clasped his arm, a pretence of a friendly greeting, and squeezed tightly. Arthur grinned through it. He knew a warning when he saw one, and knew the king’s words weren’t for him. Balinor’s eyes flickered to Merlin, as if to prove him right, and Arthur wanted to tell him that he had nothing to fear. He couldn’t, not here, with everyone watching, and he doubted the other king would believe him anyway.

“Father.” Merlin stepped up to them and threw his arms around his father.

Balinor let go of his arm in favour of pulling Merlin closer to him. Arthur stepped back, uncomfortable. He glanced, briefly, at his own father. He tried to imagine being that open, that affectionate, with him, and found he couldn’t.

Balinor pulled back and held Merlin’s face in his palms. They were silent, and Arthur wondered if they were speaking with their minds. Merlin had tried to describe how it worked to him, once, after they had found out that Arthur couldn’t hear him through mind-speak. Arthur wasn’t sure he completely understood, but he’d seen him talking with Ananet enough to know what it looked like.

Balinor glanced at him, surprise in his eyes, and Arthur met his gaze head on.

Balinor nodded, slightly, at whatever Merlin was saying. “Then let us go and greet the king.”

The druid royals turned to his father and started up the steps. Balinor ignored him as he walked past. Hunith, on the other hand, gave him a long, appraising look, and Arthur felt like she was staring into his very soul. He shivered as she turned away and followed her husband up the stairs.

Merlin grabbed his hand and tugged him forward. He let himself be led, suddenly dreading the moment he would have to face the Queen alone.

* * *

Merlin shifted. This was already horribly tense. Arthur had been nervous all day, ever since his parents had arrived, and Merlin had a pretty good idea of why. His father hadn’t been subtle in his hatred of King Uther and his son, at least until Merlin had told him that Arthur was _nothing _like his father. He had eased up on the glaring and thinly veiled threats afterwards, but his mother had done no such thing, which wasn’t really her fault. She had no idea what Arthur was really like, and Merlin still hadn’t had the chance to talk to her in private.

Arthur was sitting beside him, as still as a statue. He was nervous – Merlin had only seen him act this way when he was facing a serious threat to the kingdom.

Merlin sighed and stood. He fought back the brief dizziness that tried to overwhelm him, a now familiar feeling, and slid one arm around Arthur’s shoulders. He pulled his husband close and kissed his temple.

“You’re thinking too hard.” He murmured. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Arthur snorted. “Please. I’m not you.”

Merlin pinched his shoulder, lightly, and melted against him, almost falling into his lap. Arthur wrapped his arms around him, cupping his belly lightly, and Merlin sighed, content.

They stayed that way even when the knock at the door came. Arthur went stiff beneath him, but Merlin refused to move. Arthur may not be able to hear him through mind-speak, but it hardly mattered. Merlin could read him easily, without effort, and he knew Arthur could read him just as well. He smiled softly and kissed him, sweet, and received a sigh and careful nod.

“Enter!” He yelled, resting his head on Arthur’s shoulder.

The door opened, revealing his parents. A thrill went through him at seeing them again, though it had barely been an hour since their welcoming feast had drawn to a close. Merlin had missed them more than anything. To have them close again felt like a miracle, and was just as unbelievable as one. It was real though, and every reminder made Merlin so happy he almost teared up.

For a long moment no one moved, and then Merlin was rushing to his mother’s arms again, and his father was hugging them both, and he felt peace wash over him. It was the same peace that being in his parent’s arms always brought, the same peace that being near Arthur now brought him.

Eventually he wiggled free, the reminder of Arthur behind them enough for him to come back to the present. His parents let him go, but immediately his mother grabbed him and held him still so she could get a good look at him.

“Oh, my son. I’ve missed you.” She whispered.

Merlin smiled, tears stinging his eyes. “I missed you too mother.”

She kissed his forehead and let him go. He had a moment of freedom before his father wrapped his arms around him from behind, lifting him up onto the air. Merlin squeaked and struggled as his father laughed, unwilling to let go. His arms tightened, pressing on his stomach, and Merlin panicked. His magic reacted, and in the blink of an eye he was sitting in Arthur’s lap again.

Arthur let out a little sound as his arms automatically wrapped around him. His mother gasped, eyes going wide, and his father whirled around to stare at him. He saw them both shooting glances at Arthur and pushed back into his husband’s chest, holding onto the arms on his waist.

“Sorry.” He said, smiling weakly. His father glared over his shoulder, and Merlin felt a fierce protectiveness swell up within him. “I’ve told you Arthur is nothing like his father.”

“I know you have no reason to trust what I say.” Arthur piped up, voice serious. “But I would never allow any harm to come to your son.”

“You truly care for him?” His mother broke the following silence.

Arthur nodded. “I do.”

And his mother, surprisingly, smiled. “I’m glad.”

Merlin felt Arthur relax behind him. He almost giggled – Prince Arthur Pendragon, the best knight in all of Albion – was terrified of his mother. He understood, to an extent – his mother could certainly be scary sometimes – but it was still funny.

His parents sat in the chairs opposite them, his father looking to him expectantly. “You said you had something to tell us?”

Merlin glanced at Arthur, nervous. He slid out of Arthur’s lap and into his own chair, though Arthur kept a firm grasp on his hand. Merlin squeezed his hand tightly, took a deep breath, and faced his parents.

“I-I’m pregnant.” He said, cursing the stutter.

He wasn’t sure what reaction he was expecting. The stunned silence, yes, and the quick glances, but the smiles and excited exclamations were a surprise, along with the massive hug his father drew him into. Merlin laughed as Arthur was pulled into the fray, his mother asking a million questions she didn’t wait for the answer to as she planned for the future arrival of her grandchild.

Arthur sent him a desperate look which Merlin ignored, instead choosing to sit with his father and watch.

“Does anyone else know?” His father asked quietly.

“Gaius. He was the first person to figure out what was happening.” Merlin shrugged. “We haven’t told anyone else. Arthur wanted to make sure Gaius was right, and I...” He trailed off, then shook his head. “I’m worried about what Uther might do. We both know this marriage was just a way for him to control us and our people. When he learns about the baby...”

His father considered it for a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t think he’ll do a thing.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow. That didn’t sound like the King Uther he knew. “You don’t?”

His father sat back and nodded at Arthur. “If he truly cares for you the way he says he does, then his father will never be able to touch either of you. And if he doesn’t-“

“He does.” Merlin insisted instantly.

“If he doesn’t.” His father said again meaningfully. “Then I know you are strong enough to protect yourself.” Merlin shifted, uneasy and unsure. His father noticed. “Merlin. You are my son, and I know you. You would never let anything happen to your child.”

Merlin rested his hand on his stomach. “No.” He glanced at Arthur and met bright blue eyes. “No, we wouldn’t.”

* * *

Merlin relaxed into his bed, head pounding. He hadn’t been able to sleep in almost three days and it was starting to wear him down. He felt like he could sleep for a week, if given the chance. Unfortunately, from what everyone had told him, that chance wasn’t going to come for a long time.

As if to prove him right, a cry broke through the silence.

Merlin groaned and pushed himself upwards. Technically, he didn’t need to get up. There were servants and nursemaids that could - and were - supposed to look after his sons’ every need. He just preferred to do it himself. His parents had raised him, personally, with only the occasional help from the other druids, and Merlin was determined to do the same.

He shoved his way through the door connecting his room to his sons’ and stumbled to his crib. The babe was crying so hard tears were rolling down his bright red cheeks. Merlin reached down and shushed him, running a hand across his forehead. When that failed to calm him, Merlin pulled him up and into his arms, rocking him as he cried.

“Come on Gwydre.” He murmured. “Go to sleep. Your Papa’s tired.”

His son cried for a few minutes longer, tears and spit mixing together on Merlin’s shoulder. Finally he seemed to tire himself out, and Merlin could have cried in relief when he finally heard him drift off to sleep. He carefully laid him back in his crib, wondering how such a loud and fussy baby could look like such an angel when asleep.

The door connecting their chambers opened, and Merlin looked up just as Arthur entered, a tired smile on his face and his hands hidden behind his back. Arthur greeted him with a kiss, and Merlin all but melted against him.

“Where have you been?” Merlin whispered. “I haven’t seen you in hours.”

Arthur grinned tiredly, but proudly. “I was picking up a little gift I had made for Gwydre.”

Merlin chuckled. “I knew you were going to spoil him.”

Arthur shoved him slightly, then pulled whatever it was from behind his back.

Merlin gasped and immediately reached for the tiny crown sitting in Arthur’s palm. It was beautiful. Silver metal twisted over itself into a circle, a bright green gem in the centre surrounded by delicate little leaves. Two strips of fabric hung from the bottom of the crown, forming two small loops.

It was the cutest crown Merlin had ever seen, and was oddly familiar.

“Is this the gemstone from my old crown?” He hadn’t seen it since he married Arthur, and had assumed his parents had taken it with them when they left.

“Yes.” Arthur blushed slightly. “Your father gave it to me, after I asked your mother what your old crown looked like.”

“Why?” Merlin wondered aloud, turning the crown carefully in his hands.

“Because he’s a druid too.” Arthur said simply. “And he deserves to know that part of himself, no matter what anyone else says.”

They both knew he meant Uther, but they didn’t say it.

“Thank you.” Merlin said, kissing his husband softly.

Arthur grinned into the kiss and gently took the crown from his hands. He set it down beside Gwydre’s crib and pulled Merlin back into their room. Merlin grinned, knowing exactly what was on his husband’s mind, and went eagerly.


	22. Day Twenty Two: Druid.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, King Arthur Pendragon, Arthur knows about Merlin's magic.

“Arthur!” Merlin yelled, staring at the scroll on his desk.

Arthur looked up from where he was wrestling with his vambrace. “What?”

“Were you expecting a message from the druids?”

Arthur frowned and turned his full attention to him. “No.”

Merlin tapped the scroll, inspecting the druid symbol stamped on it. “Well, one came. Do you think something happened?”

“Only one way to find out.” Arthur said, openly concerned now.

Merlin broke the seal on the scroll as Arthur leaned over his shoulder. He muttered a spell as he did so, searching for any curses, and relaxed when he found that there were none. He rolled it open and placed a few weights at the top and bottom to hold it flat.

“To King Arthur Pendragon and his fiancé, our Lord Emrys…” Merlin trailed off, turning worriedly to Arthur. “You haven’t told anyone we’re engaged, have you?”

“No.” Arthur frowned. “I haven’t even told Morgana, and she’s been pestering me for weeks to tell her what’s going on between us.”

They both looked down at the letter. “Then how do the druids know?”

“Keep reading.” Was all Arthur said.

Merlin huffed, but complied. “We wish to congratulate you on your engagement. The prophecies of the Once and Future King are quickly coming to fruition, and the Golden Age of Albion is swiftly approaching.” Merlin shook his head, disbelieving. “There’s no way the prophecies foretold us getting _married_\- right?”

Arthur raised his eyebrows. “Didn’t your dragon call us _two sides of the same coin_?”

“He’s not my dragon.” Merlin retorted automatically. “And that doesn’t mean he knew we were going to get married.”

“Well, someone did.” Arthur said, gesturing to the note. Merlin glared at it, and silently cursed himself when Arthur noticed. “Merlin? What’s wrong?”

“It’s just…” Merlin hesitated, then decided to simply blurt it all out. “Aren’t you sick of everything we do being a part of some prophecy? Don’t you feel… controlled?”

Arthur hesitated a moment before answering. “Do you love me because destiny told you to?”

“No!” Merlin exclaimed, horrified that Arthur might think that. “Arthur, of course not!”

Arthur smiled and cupped his cheek. “Exactly. We make our own choices Merlin. Never mind what anyone else says.”

Merlin worried his lip, but eventually nodded. Kilgharrah has once told him Morgana would turn against them, after all, and she was as loyal to Arthur as any one of his knights. Perhaps destiny wasn’t set in stone, and prophecies didn’t always come true.

“You’re right.” He said eventually, relaxing. “So, how do we want to reply?”

Arthur considered it for a moment, then grinned. “Perhaps we should bring forward the marriage announcement.”

“To _when_?” Merlin asked.

Arthur shrugged, nonchalant. “Tomorrow afternoon?”

Merlin started at his fiancé for a moment, then sighed in defeat. “As you wish, sire.”

Arthur laughed and kissed him, a sweet and happy thing, and pulled away just as quickly. Merlin almost chased him, wanting nothing more than to press their lips back together.

“Excellent.” Arthur said, moving back in front of his mirror. “Now, will you help me with this?”

Arthur shook his arm, his armour clinking loudly. Merlin rolled his eyes but pushed his chair back and went to help his hopeless husband-to-be.


	23. Day Twenty Three: Gold.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, Arthur knows about Merlin's magic, Prince Arthur Pendragon, marriage proposal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! I want to apologise for the long break, but I'm back and eager to finish this oneshot. If you'd like to know more about why I took a break and what my future update schedule looks like, I made a tumblr post [here.](https://cupcakezys.tumblr.com/post/188774462301/hey-everyone-i-just-wanted-to-talk-about-my-fics%22%22) :)
> 
> Also,,,, I'm not sure if the last line makes much sense,,,, but I like it, so I kept it.

“You called for me sire?” Merlin asked, shifting on his feet.

Arthur smiled behind his hands. “What is this?”

He tapped his pouch of gold, sitting innocently on his desk. Merlin glanced at it, confused. It wasn’t something he’d never seen before – Arthur often gave it to him with an order to go buy something from the market. Arthur had even given it to him yesterday to buy a new dress as a present for Morgana. He very clearly didn’t know what Arthur was talking about.

“Your gold?” He hedged.

Arthur nodded slowly, mocking. “Yes. That’s what I thought as well.”

“It’s… not your gold?” Merlin asked uncertainly.

“No.” Arthur drawled. “Care to explain?”

Merlin looked so confused. Arthur almost laughed aloud, ruining everything, but managed to school his face into a neutral expression. He pulled at the strings of his pouch and turned it upside down. Coins spilled onto the table, flickering gold in the torchlight.

Merlin paled.

“Care to explain this, _Mer_lin?” He said, eyebrows raised.

The coins in front of him looked normal, if you were half blind and looking out of the corner of your eye. The instant you got a good look at them you’d notice the difference immediately. And it wasn’t like he could claim it was coin from Mercia or Essetir either, seeing as they were so different from any coin Arthur had ever seen. On one side of the coins there was the imprint of a crown, glowing a faint gold, and on the other was a butterfly, the slightest blue tinge to its wings.

It was very obviously magical, to say the least.

“I have no idea what happened.” Merlin said as he flashed a weak grin. “Sire.”

“Don’t you?” Arthur asked, picking up a coin and examining it between his fingers. “I think it’s fairly obvious what happened.”

Merlin gulped.

“It seems to me that you took my gold to the markets, got Morgana her dress, and then-“

“It was your fault!” Merlin blurted out, cutting him off.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. Merlin blushed.

“It was your fault.” He said again, calmer this time. “If you hadn’t jumped me the moment I got back-”

“I didn’t _jump _you!” Arthur protested, dropping the gold and standing. “It was a surprise show of affection, which _you_ seemed to appreciate very much at the time, seeing as you got on your knees and-”

“Exactly!” Merlin interrupted, not standing down as Arthur drew closer to him. “You distracted me. If you hadn’t made me so-”

“Out of your mind with pleasure?” Arthur said, grinning cockily.

“_Distracted_.” Merlin insisted, though he was blushing up a storm now. “Then I wouldn’t have lost control and…”

He waved his hands at the coins, and Arthur snorted. “Magicked my gold?”

Merlin nodded. “Exactly.”

“You’re ridiculous.” Merlin looked affronted, but Arthur pulled him into his arms before he could protest. He nosed at Merlin’s hair, breathing in his scent, and hugged him tighter. “You know what will happen if anyone else finds out.”

Merlin slumped into his embrace and sighed. “Of course I do. I’ve known practically since the day I was born.”

Arthur nodded slowly, black hair tickling his nose. “You have to be more careful. If I hadn’t noticed and someone else did…”

“No one would suspect me.” Merlin wiggled against him and Arthur felt him grin. “I’m just your lucky fool of a manservant.”

Arthur closed his eyes. “Everyone’s luck runs out sometime Merlin.”

Merlin’s grin disappeared. “I won’t leave you Arthur. Not ever. I swear it.”

Arthur pulled back, still stunned by the intense look in Merlin’s eyes. “You swear it?”

Merlin cupped Arthur’s cheek with one hand. Arthur leaned into it. “To my king and future husband, I swear I will never leave you. Not even death could take me away.”

Arthur wanted to laugh, though he didn’t know why. “Your king and future husband? I’m still only the prince.”

“I know.” Merlin said, that same intense look in his eye. “But you are, and always have been, my king. No one else.”

Arthur’s breath caught. “And will I be your only future husband?”

Merlin’s lips curled up into a coy smile. “Why, sire, is that jealousy I hear?”

“Perhaps.” Arthur whispered, leaning in close. “Perhaps I only ever what you to be mine.”

Merlin’s smile stretched wider. “Is that a proposal?”

“Would you say yes if it was?” Arthur whispered again, so quiet he hardly heard himself.

Merlin’s smile turned wide and genuine. “Do you even have to ask?”

Arthur kissed him. Merlin didn’t protest, leaning into the kiss and giving as much as he took. Arthur pulled back only when Merlin’s hands started roaming under his clothing, those long fingers teasing him senseless.

“You’ll be the death of me.” He whispered against Merlin’s lips.

“On the contrary.” Merlin grinned and kissed him breathless again. “I’ll be the life of you.”


	24. Day Twenty Four: Snow.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, King Arthur Pendragon, Arthur knows about Merlin's magic, fluff.

“It’s freezing!” Arthur complained, arms crossed and pouting.

Merlin rolled his eyes. It was certainly cold, the ground covered in unmarked snow and the air biting his lungs with every breath. It was the kind of weather that could get you killed, if you weren’t careful and prepared.

Merlin had hated this weather as much as he had loved it when he was a child. It had meant his mother would have to ration their food until the spring, and Merlin had fallen ill more often than not from the cold. The only thing that made the winter bearable was the snow. Will used to drag him out to the fields and together they would spend hours playing in the snow, sometimes alone and sometimes with the other children from the village.

Back then Merlin had been dressed in all three of his tunics and his thicker pair of breeches, his feet wrapped in all his socks and any spare fabric that they had, shoved into his worn boots. He had felt the cold bitterly, even through all those layers, and he’d often resort to magic to warm him, which had only begun to happen more often after Will had discovered Merlin’s secret.

Now, he was dressed in the finest of fur coats, a thick tunic and even thicker breeches keeping him as warm as if he were sitting next to a raging fire. His boots were practically shining in the white snow, not an inch of them showing wear, and gloves kept his hands warm. The air still bit at his lungs, but where once it would have left him frozen to his bones it now simply made him feel alive.

“It’s not that bad.” He said, kicking at the clean snow.

“Shut up.” Arthur said in return, teeth chattering slightly. “I hate the cold.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “You’ve never complained this much before.”

“That’s because _before_, we only ever left the castle in winter for missions and hunts.” Arthur said, like he was talking to a small child. “I can’t complain around the other knights.”

“But you can complain around me?”

Arthur turned around and winked at him, the prat. “Exactly! Glad to know you’re paying attention for once Merlin.”

Merlin spluttered indignantly as Arthur turned towards the half frozen river, just visible through the trees at the far end of the clearing. Merlin smirked. He bent down and quietly gathered as much snow into his hands as he could, packing it tightly together. Arthur was saying something, but Merlin wasn’t listening, and then it didn’t matter because Merlin had thrown his snowball and hit Arthur directly in the back of the head.

Merlin laughed loud in delight until Arthur turned, slowly, and he caught sight of the look on his face.

He shrieked as Arthur ran at him, a clump of snow in his hand. He managed to dodge Arthur for a few minutes, years of dodging Arthur and his goblets helping him duck away just in time. His own clumsiness got him caught in the end. He tripped over his own feet and fell face first into the snow.

He spluttered and tried to get to his feet, only to feel something heavy land on his back. He thrashed and wiggled, laughing and screaming in equal measure as Arthur wrestled him onto his back. Then he was spluttering again, cold snow shoved up his nose and down his neck. It was when Arthur shoved snow down his breeches that he shrieked and called his magic to him.

Shoving Arthur away would be easy, but would hardly be satisfying. Instead he pushed his magic down, into the snow beneath him, and narrowed his eyes at Arthur as they flared golden. Arthur’s lips pulled into a frown for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, and then the storm of snowballs hit him square in the chest, pushing him backwards and down into the snow.

Merlin laughed and scrambled up, not letting go of his magic until he heard Arthur pleading for mercy. The barrage stopped, leaving Arthur half buried under a small pile of snow. His king groaned in defeat and made no effort to stand.

Merlin wandered over and crouched by his head, smiling cheekily. “Still cold?”

“You cheated.” Arthur groaned, blue eyes bright against the white of the snow. “Cheater.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, it’s not my fault your ass is so heavy. How else was I supposed to get you off me?”

Arthur glared at him, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “I am not fat!”

Then he sneezed, and Merlin laughed. Feeling merciful, he held out his hand. Arthur eyed it for a moment before he took it, and Merlin made him immediately regret it by groaning and dramatically half stumbling forward. Arthur shoved him, then sneezed again, and Merlin had to suppress a laugh or risk being knocked back to the ground.

“Come on.” He said instead, walking back towards their horses. “I’m starving.”

“Betraying your king hungry work Merlin?” Arthur called, catching up to him, and Merlin could practically _hear_ the pout on his face.

“Very sire.” He rolled his eyes again. “Honestly, it was _one_ snowball Arthur-“

“One snowball _storm_ more like.” Arthur growled, finally falling into step beside him. “I don’t think there’s an inch of me that’s not frozen.”

Merlin grinned. “I think I can help with that.”

“Oh can you?” Arthur near-purred, and Merlin shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the wind.

He waved his hand towards the horses, catching the basket and blanket that flew towards him. “If you think I’m doing anything in this snow you’re mad.”

Arthur turned back towards the river. “Where’s your sense of adventure Merlin?”

“Gone.” Merlin answered, following him. “I lost it after a week in your service.”

“A week?” Arthur scoffed. “It wasn’t that bad.”

Merlin considered that for a moment as he waved his hand, the picnic setting itself up on a path of green that burst to life with a gentle nudge from his magic. “You’re right, it was worse. Three days.”

Arthur laughed, a loud and bright thing, and Merlin melted down into the blanket. A second later Arthur joined him, still smiling wide, and situated himself comfortably in Merlin’s lap, his hands already grabbing for the food. It was surprisingly warm on the blanket, and Merlin saw the way snowflakes had started to fall around them. None got close to them, however, and Merlin could feel the magic humming in the air.

He sighed and soaked in the warmth around him, and from the body leaning against his. It had worried him, a long time ago now, whenever his magic would act up on its own. It was too dangerous, and there were far too many chances someone might see.

He didn’t have to worry about that anymore.

Arthur broke him from his daze, a still warm and fresh roll of bread being shoved against his lips. “You said you were starving, so eat.”

He opened his mouth obediently, biting into the roll before he peeked into the basket. “Did George pack any of my favourites?”

“Of course he did.” Arthur said, shoving his hands away so he could get to whatever was inside. “I told him to.”

Warmth bubbled in Merlin’s chest, making his cheeks flush, and he pressed his face into Arthur’s back so he couldn’t see. “Good. Where are the sausages?”

They sat in a peaceful kind of silence after that, content to eat slowly as snow fell slowly around them, never touching the inside of their little bubble.

“We could run away.” Arthur said quietly, sometime after the food had all been eaten. “Go live on a farm, somewhere far away from any royal duties. No more pesky nobles telling us we shouldn’t marry or vengeful people looking to kill me because of my father. Just you and me.”

“It does sound nice.” Merlin hummed. “But you’d get bored of it in a few weeks, and you know it.”

Arthur shrugged. “Maybe.”

Merlin toyed with Arthur’s hands, his king allowing him to manipulate his fingers as he saw fit. “What’s brought this on? You’ve never mentioned wanting to run away before.” A horrible thought wormed into the back of his mind. “You aren’t getting cold feet are you? The wedding is this evening.”

Arthur’s hands tightened around his. “Of course not. Idiot.” He shifted in Merlin’s arms so he could face him. Blue eyes stared deeply into his. “I could never doubt marrying you.”

Merlin blushed and cupped Arthurs cheek with his hand. “Then why?”

Arthur glanced down, his hands running up Merlin’s arm. “To wear the crown is a heavy burden Merlin. Sometimes... sometimes I dream of what it would be like to live a normal life.”

Merlin sighed and touched their foreheads together. “Me too.”

They sat in silence for a moment, breathing together as the snow slowly stopped falling.

“But we weren’t meant for normal lives.” Merlin pulled back, his lips quirked upwards. “I know how heavy the weight you bear is Arthur, but look at all that you’ve got. Gaius, Gwen, your knights...”

“You?”

Merlin smiled. “Always.”

Arthur grinned and pushed himself to his feet, holding out a hand for Merlin to take. “Come on. Let’s go build one of those snowmen you love so much before someone comes to drag us back to the castle.”

Merlin grinned and took his hand without a second’s hesitation.


	25. Day Twenty Five: Cloak.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, Prince Arthur Pendragon, Arthur knows about Merlin's magic, marriage.

“Merlin!” Arthur yelled, frustration making him angry.

A young servant opened the door timidly, his head down and hands clasped in front of him. “Sire?”

Arthur narrowed his eyes at the blonde head in front of him. “Where’s Merlin?”

Brown eyes met his for a single second before they dropped to the ground again. “I don’t know sire.”

“Then find him.” He snapped, patience gone. “And when you do, tell him that he may be a useless manservant, but he _is_ still my manservant. I expect him to be here!”

The servant bowed low and stayed there. “Yes your highness, of course your highness. I’ll find him right away.”

The door shut quietly behind him, and Arthur cursed. The poor boy had looked terrified, and Arthur already knew the lecture Merlin was going to give him on how he treated the staff. He was already giving himself the same lecture. He’d have to apologise to the boy – maybe he could give him some extra coin or food from the kitchens.

He nodded to himself, then promptly resumed his previous agitated pacing.

The door banged open without warning and Arthur spun towards it. Merlin shoved the door shut behind him, eyebrows raised, Arthur’s freshly washed clothes folded in his arms.

Arthur crossed his arms. “Where have you been?”

His eyebrows raised higher. “Doing your laundry. Like you ordered me to.”

Arthur vaguely remembered the list of chores he had given Merlin that morning – something that wasn’t really necessary, after two years of doing the same thing most every morning, but it was routine at this point. He was fairly certain, however, that laundry had been one of the first things he’d asked Merlin to do, and for this exact reason.

“That would explain why I can’t find any clean tunics for the welcome feast tonight.” He deadpanned. “Or my cloak.”

Merlin winced slightly, apologetic. “The lords aren’t due to arrive for hours yet. There’s still plenty of time.”

He was right, of course, but Arthur had spent all morning listening to his father lecture him on how important securing the visiting lords’ loyalties were. Arthur was fed up and frustrated, and, if he dared to admit it, a little bit worried.

His father had drawn him aside after they had finished their breakfast, and Arthur had prepared for another lecture, but what he had gotten was far worse.

“And what if one of them arrived early, _Merl_in?” He said instead, knew Merlin would hear his irritation for what it really was. “I suppose I would have just had to have greeted them in this.”

He tugged at his tunic in emphasis, the dirt and sweat making it cling to him uncomfortably. Merlin gave him a _look_ and started putting his clean clothes away. Arthur made an annoyed noise in the back of his throat and fell back on his bed, watching the rise and fall of Merlin’s arse as he worked.

“Perhaps, _sire_, if you had given me last night off like I asked, I could have gotten my chores done faster.” He tossed a white tunic and clean breeches over his shoulder. “Those should do.”

Arthur watched them fall onto the bed beside him, partially covering his view. “I need a bath.”

Merlin sighed and stopped completely before slowly turning towards him, meeting his eyes unflinchingly. Arthur shifted uncomfortably under the stare and turned his gaze to the ceiling.

“I had a few servants draw it.” He gestured to his changing screen, the bathtub just peeking out from behind it. “But it was lukewarm at best. I thought my manservant would be a little more capable at giving a prince a bath he deserves.”

Merlin fought back a smile. “Was that a compliment?”

“Some might take it as such.” Arthur said, pulling himself to his feet. “If they were an idiot.”

Merlin snorted as Arthur pulled his clothes off, leaving them in a pile for Merlin to pick up later. He tossed his crown onto the nearby table and stood by his bath. He heard Merlin shuffling behind him, mumbling to himself, and when he turned around Merlin’s hand was stretched towards his bathtub, his eyes gleaming gold. His bathwater was steaming.

Merlin glanced at him, pride shining in his eyes, as they did every time he used his magic.

Arthur’s frustration softened, and he nodded his thanks, slipping into the water with a sigh. He sunk down until only his head was above the water and felt the rest of his frustrations and anger fade away, at least for now. Arthur knew himself well enough – all it would take is one more interaction with his father and he’d be left furious all over again.

Merlin started washing his hair, massaging something sweet smelling into his scalp, and he groaned. “What was that boys’ name? The one I sent to get you?”

“Tobias.” Merlin hummed, dunking his hair under to wash out the soap. “Why?”

“I think I scared him.” He said regretfully.

“You were being an ass.” Merlin agreed, and he was massaging Arthur’s shoulders now, soothing strokes that made Arthur melt. “I can call him up with your dinner, give you a chance to apologise.”

“Yes, good.” Arthur’s eyes fluttered shut. “Do you think he would accept a little extra coin as apology?”

Merlin laughed, gentle and soft. “I think an apology from the crown prince himself will be enough. He’ll probably be so surprised he’ll think he was dreaming.”

Arthur grunted and lazily swatted at him. He missed, predictably – Merlin could actually move quite quickly when he wanted to – and just succeeded in slopping water all over the side of the tube. Merlin yelled out in surprise, the front of his tunic wet, but a muttered spell and it was like nothing had happened.

“So.” Merlin said, sitting back on his hunches. Arthur watched him, arms around his legs and cheek on his knees, head tilted so he could see his manservant. “What happened?”

Arthur looked away and said nothing.

Merlin sighed and stood, disappearing from view to grab Arthur’s clothes. “I know something happened. Gaius told me Uther summoned you earlier, and Leon wouldn’t let me into the throne room when I asked him where you went. Said the king had wanted to speak with you in private about something important, and that I’d just get my head chopped off trying to interfere.”

“Leon’s smart.” Arthur said, tensing as his anger flared again.

“That’s why he’s your first knight.” Merlin agreed, coming back towards him with his breeches and a towel. “And you’re trying to change the subject.”

Arthur sighed and wished he could sink back under the water and stay there forever.

“My father has told me, in no uncertain terms, that when Princess Mithian and her father arrive next week I am to woo her as well as I can. He said he’s already drawn up the peace treaties, and my hand in marriage is the only way King Rodor will agree to peace, which we all know is a lie, because his own terms said nothing about a marriage. My father simply thinks this way we would have better control over their kingdom.”

A thousand emotions went through Merlin’s eyes in a split second, his face so open and honest, before he settled on sad understanding.

“Oh.” Was all he said.

Arthur nodded. “I tried to tell him otherwise. I’ve always been adamant that I would marry for love – he knows that!”

Merlin snorted and sat in a nearby chair, Arthur’s towel and clothes forgotten. “Yes, well, I don’t think he’d much approve of me, do you?”

Arthur looked at Merlin. His Merlin, with his messy hair and too-big-ears. His Merlin, who was a servant, and a sorcerer, and a man. No, his father would not approve. But in this, Arthur did not care what his father thought.

“I won’t marry without love Merlin.” He whispered, arms tightening around himself. “I have given everything I am for Camelot, and I give it all gladly. But this, this I want to keep for myself.”

Merlin stood, only to kneel by Arthur’s side, his sleeve getting wet as he reached for Arthur’s hand. Neither of them mentioned how little what Arthur wanted mattered. It was up to the king to decide, and in the end, Arthur had very little say.

“Marry me?” Merlin said, startling the both of them, and then went bright red. Arthur stared at him, surprised, and Merlin hastily continued. “I didn’t mean to say that. I just thought- I mean, your father could hardly force you to marry Mithian if you were already married, right? It was just a silly idea, slipped out while I-“

“Yes.” Arthur said, effectively shutting Merlin up.

His lover gaped at him. “What?”

“Yes, I will marry you.” Arthur said, getting excited now. “My father cannot force me to marry princess Mithian if I’m already married to someone else.”

Merlin drew back slightly. “And what do you think he’d do to me when he finds out just who you married?”

“He wouldn’t find out.” Arthur swore fiercely. “I wouldn’t tell him who I married, simply that I was.”

Merlin worried his lip, thinking. “Would he even believe you?”

“Yes.” His father wouldn’t want to believe it, but he would. They both knew it wasn’t something Arthur would lie about. “Even if he didn’t at first, he would.”

Merlin glanced away, still troubled. Arthur very suddenly became aware of how this must look to him, with Arthur proposing only as a way to avoid another marriage. He turned, lukewarm water sloshing everywhere, and grabbed Merlin’s hands in his own. Blue eyes met his own and he smiled softly.

“Merlin.” He murmured. “I love you. I’d propose the instant I was crowned king if that was what you wanted. I’d give you the grandest of weddings – one that lasted for weeks, with enough food to finally put some meat on your bones.” Merlin snorted and Arthur grinned, but he quickly turned serious again. “I can’t offer you that right now, not as prince. But I can offer you my love, and a promise for a better future.”

It was awkward. It was clumsy. Arthur knew it – he wasn’t good with feelings, never had been. Merlin had surprised him when he understood before, when he saw Arthur’s brashness for what it really was, and he continued to surprise him every day. It was no different now – Merlin smiled and kissed Arthur’s knuckles, eyes full of so much love Arthur could hardly bare it.

“Idiot.” Merlin said, and Arthur couldn’t help but pull a face, because that was _his_ word. “That’s all I could ever ask for.”

Merlin kissed him, gentle and sweet and just a little bit perfect, and Arthur would have lost himself in the feeling if there wasn’t something important he had to do first. He pulled back, grinning a little when Merlin complained and tried to chase after him. He reached up and around Merlin’s neck, loosening his neckerchief.

Merlin understood immediately and helped him, untying his neckerchief with one hand and taking Arthur’s hand with the other. He wrapped the fabric around their joined hands, carefully looping it over and under until there was no material left. It cling to Arthur’s wet skin, but neither of them cared.

“Are we married now?” Merlin asked after a long moment of silence.

Arthur laughed and kissed him, deeper and rougher than before. “I believe there are usually words said.”

Merlin smirked. “I think we can skip that part.”

Arthur smirked in return, then glanced away. “The door?”

Merlin’s eyes flashed gold. “Locked.”

“And my clothes for tonight?”

Merlin rolled his eyes and gestured to his bed. “Ready and waiting.”

Arthur gulped as Merlin leaned closer. “What about my cloak?”

It was very important, his cloak. It showed his loyalty to Camelot, his dedication as a knight and it completed his outfit. Merlin hadn’t cleaned it. Arthur knew he hadn’t, because he could see it draped over his chair, dirt still clinging to its edges.

Merlin sighed softly, his breath ghosting over Arthur’s lips. “Cleaned.”

And sure enough, when Arthur glanced over again, it looked brand new. There wasn’t a speck of dirt on it.

“Any more complaints, _your highness_?” Merlin purred.

Arthur fought back a shiver and grinned, tugging on Merlin’s tunic. “Hurry up and get in here.”

And Merlin, grinning from ear to ear, did as he was told without a word.


	26. Day Twenty Six: Candlelit.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, Prince Arthur Pendragon, magic reveal, and just all around softness.

It happened on a completely ordinary day.

Merlin wasn’t sure what prompted him to do it. He’d been scrubbing Arthur’s floors, water soaking his knees and sleeves rolled up over his elbows as high as they could go. He hadn’t been thinking about much, really, lost in the back and forth of the brush on Arthur’s floor, when suddenly he realised, with a startling kind of clarity, that there was never going to be a good time to reveal his magic.

There would be times where it might be _better_, sure, but there would never come a day where it would be _good_. He knew Arthur as well as he knew himself by now; even if he revealed his magic by heroically saving the prince, there would still be anger. Anger bred from betrayal, betrayal born from hurt at the lies Merlin had told. And Merlin knew, of course, that Arthur had every right to be angry for being lied to, just like he knew that Arthur would understand why he hid it.

Still. Gaius and the dragon were always telling him how no one must know about his magic, how dangerous it could be for him and for them. But he wondered. He wondered because Will had known, before he died, and Lancelot knew too, wherever he was, and Gaius, and none of them had betrayed him. None of them had put him in danger.

He knew that if the situation was reversed, if Arthur had a huge secret he lied to Merlin about, that he would want to know it. Even if it changed everything, even if it put him in danger, he would want to know.

And that, ultimately, was what had made up his mind.

“Arthur.” He said, quiet. Serious. “I need to talk to you.”

Arthur looked up from where he was agonising over some reports. He’d been working on them for hours now, without break no matter what Merlin had done to try and coax him away. The reports were nothing good, after all. There was news of the most recent bandit attacks, some minor thievery in the market, and a village on the edge of Camelot being reduced to ashes by an unknown threat. All things that needed to be handled, and things Arthur was determined to handle correctly.

Arthur frowned at him, caught off guard by his seriousness. “What is it?”

Merlin swallowed and stood, abandoning his bucket and brush. He stopped opposite Arthur, his desk between them, then sighed and pulled a chair over so he could sit down.

“It’s important.” He started.

“I can see that.” Arthur said when he didn’t continue.

He didn’t know what to say. There was no teasing in Arthur’s voice – no joke to fall back on, no way to easily deflect if he changed his mind. Which was a problem, because suddenly Merlin’s heart was beating fast and he wasn’t sure if he could do this.

“I need you to listen.” Merlin begged, desperate. “And I need you to know that I trust you. I think of you as my friend, Arthur, despite… everything, and I would never hurt you. I’d never want to.”

“This sounds a lot like talking about our feelings Merlin. Anything else girly you want to say before you get to the point?” The joke fell flat between them, and Arthur must have realised it a second later, because his smile dropped. “Tell me.”

Merlin closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He felt like he was standing over a cliff, about to go plummeting down, and he feared what would happen when he hit the bottom. Who knew what was waiting for him down there? But he had to do it - he’d taken the first step already. It was time to take the plunge.

“I have magic.”

It was barely a whisper, barely a sound, but he knew Arthur had heard it. The room was silent, save for their breathing and the faint echoes of the city outside. No matter how quietly Merlin had whispered it Arthur had to have heard him.

He blinked his eyes open, slowly, hesitantly, afraid of what he would see. It would be the hurt first, the hurt and the confusion, and then the anger and the betrayal would flood in, and Merlin could only hope that it wouldn’t last long. He wanted the chance to explain himself, at least.

There was hurt in Arthur’s eyes, and confusion, but there was also doubt and denial, and Merlin suddenly realised that this might not be as easy as he had thought it would be.

“Don’t be an idiot.” Arthur said. He was breathing heavily. “You don’t have magic. I would know Merlin. You’re horrible at keeping secrets- I would _know._”

Merlin flinched, the desperation in Arthur’s voice hitting him like a blow. “I do. I do Arthur, I was born with it. I’ve been keeping it a secret my entire _life_, and I- I’ve gotten good at it.”

He hadn’t, not really. Without Gaius there to guide him he would have surely been discovered within his first few weeks in Camelot. It had been luck that had kept him safe for the past two years – luck, and everyone’s firm belief that he was too much of an idiot to have magic.

“Prove it.” Arthur said, voice suddenly hard and emotionless. “If you’ve really got magic then show it to me.”

Merlin hesitated. “Are you sure?”

Arthur glared at him. It was all the answer Merlin needed. He cast his gaze around, trying to figure out what he could do. It had to be something small, something harmless, something that wouldn’t scare him.

He spotted his abandoned bucket and brush and an idea sprang into mind.

He glanced at Arthur before he held up his hand. “_Clǣne_.”

Magic flowed through him, made his eyes glow, and the brush picked itself up and stared cleaning the floor on its own. He heard Arthur’s gasp and held the spell for a second longer before he let it go. The brush fell back to the ground and stayed there.

He turned back to Arthur, slowly, trying to seem as small and unthreatening as possible.

His prince was staring at him like he’d never seen him before. There wasn’t any anger there, not yet, and Merlin couldn’t see any fear. He wondered when that would change.

“Why-“ Arthur stared, but it was weak, and he cleared his throat before continuing. “Why are you telling me now?”

It was a fair question, Merlin supposed. It was an ordinary day after all. His confession would seem out of no where.

“I’ve thought about telling you every day.” He said, shrugging. “There was always- I mean, there were the obvious reasons why I couldn’t.” He glanced at Arthur’s crown, knew Arthur saw it. Knew they were both thinking of all the executions they’d seen over the years. “And I- I didn’t want to force you to choose between your father and… me.”

Because that’s what he was doing, revealing himself like this. It was about more than just the magic – it was about Uther, and his laws, and how they were going to change things for Arthur. Because Merlin knew him as well as he knew himself; Arthur wasn’t going to turn him in for sorcery, and he wasn’t going to continue blindly believing that all magic was evil. And without that blind hatred, Arthur was going to see his father in a whole new, terrible light.

“But I realised- well.” He gulped and looked down at his hands. “There was never going to be a good time to tell you. I would’ve always have lied to you – and the longer I waited the worse it would get. And if our positions were reversed, then I would want to know.”

Arthur was silent. Merlin left him to his thoughts – he was just happy Arthur actually seemed to be listening to him. He fiddled with his tunic, not sure what else to do as he waited for Arthur to speak again.

“I’m not sure I wanted to know.”

Merlin startled at the quiet confession, his heart twisting. “I’m sorry.”

Arthur nodded. Then he frowned. “What are you even doing in Camelot?”

Merlin relaxed. Arthur wasn’t yelling at him – he didn’t even appear to be angry. It was a better reaction than he had allowed himself to hope for. So he settled into his chair and started his story at the beginning, praying to every god he knew that Arthur would forgive him for his lies.

* * *

“Show me your magic.”

Merlin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It had become a very common demand over the past few months – mostly from Arthur, as it was now, though Morgana and Gwen often asked him to show them something. That was during their lessons, however; they never asked him outside of the dead of night when he was teaching Morgana the next spell in his book.

Arthur, however, liked to take every opportunity to see his magic.

“What does his highness what to see today?” Merlin asked, playing along.

Arthur shifted on his bed, rolling to face him. Merlin mirrored his pose, magic already at his fingertips and gold in his eyes. Arthur watched him, seemingly just drinking in the sight of him, and eventually he shook his head.

“Surprise me.”

Merlin thought for a moment, then abruptly scrambled up and off the bed. Arthur startled, sitting up as well, but Merlin waved for him to stay.

“Don’t move.” He said and ran to Arthur’s desk.

Arthur watched him as he ran around the room, collecting every candle he could see with a doubtful expression on his face. “What are you doing?”

Merlin smirked and dumped his armful of candles on the bed. “It’s a surprise.”

Arthur huffed and sat back, arms crossed. Merlin waved a hand and the candles arranged themselves around the bed, standing upright and stable even on the soft mattress. Now Arthur sat, handsome and wide-eyed, in a circle of candles. Merlin grinned and tugged the curtains all closed so that the afternoon sun was blocked out, leaving the room dark. Merlin could just barely make out the shape of the bed.

“Merlin?”

“I’m here.” He murmured. It felt right, as if speaking any louder was forbidden. “Hold on.”

He shuffled his way across the floor, careful, until he reached the bed. He climbed over the candles until he was sitting opposite Arthur, legs crossed so they both had enough room to sit without touching a candle or each other.

“Ready?” Merlin whispered.

Arthur’s lips quirked up in a grin, just barely visible now Merlin’s eyes had adjusted to the dark. “For what?”

Merlin raised his hands. “_Bryne_.”

The candles around them flickered to life, one after the other, staring with the one closest to Arthur’s left and circling around until it reached his right side. The flames danced around them, lighting them both up in a faint light.

Arthur looked at him, impressed but trying to hide it. “Is that it?”

Merlin grinned. “_Hoppaþ nu swicae swá lig flíehen_.”

For a moment nothing happened, and Arthur sent him a confused look, but then Merlin raised his hands slightly.

The candles around them flickered, once, twice, waving in an impossible wind. Then, in an even bigger impossibility, the flames on each of the candles rose. They hovered just barely above the wicks for a second, then, like they were gaining confidence, they flew higher. Arthur gasped as the flames started dancing around them, coming close but never close enough to touch.

“That’s amazing.” Arthur whispered, voice full of awe.

Merlin flushed. “Thank you.”

They watched the flames for a while, content in each other’s company. Eventually Arthur drew him forward and into his arms, as he often did when they found a quiet moment just for themselves. Merlin relaxed into his embrace, happy to watch Arthur as he watched the flames.

“This is quite romantic.” Arthur whispered after a time. “Are you sure you don’t have any ulterior motives with this surprise?”

Merlin chuckled and threaded his fingers through Arthurs, resting them on his stomach. “No. I just thought it would be nice.”

Arthur hummed, the sound loud in his ear. “Well, I have my own surprise for you.”

Merlin grinned, tilting his head back so he could get a good look at Arthur’s face. “This isn’t going to be like the last surprise, is it?”

The last time Arthur had tried to surprise him Morgana had had to distract Uther for hours while they desperately tried to get a swarm of magical butterflies out of the throne room without anyone noticing. She still liked to bring up the incident, mostly to embarrass Arthur.

Arthur flushed. “No!”

Merlin laughed, the flames seemingly laughing with him, the light flickering around them. Arthur squeezed him, laughing when Merlin wheezed dramatically, and they settled slowly, relaxing back into the bed.

“So what’s this surprise?” Merlin asked.

Arthur shifted, one hand letting go of his as he reached for something under the bed’s pillows. “I want you to have this.”

He pressed something small and round into his palm. Merlin squinted at it in the low light and carefully motioned a flame closer. It was a small brooch with an image of a dove on one side. An odd present, at least from Arthur, who liked giving Merlin flowers and new clothes, and well worn, like someone else had worn it often before.

“It’s my mother’s sigil.” Arthur said, and all at once Merlin understood.

“Arthur.” He said quietly, trying to force it back into Arthur’s hand. “I can’t take this.”

“Yes you can.” Arthur said, in that I’m-the-prince-and-you’ll-obey-me voice of his. “I want you to have it.”

He studied it a second time, running his fingers over the dove. “Alright. Okay.”

They fell into silence again, Merlin fiddling with the sigil and Arthur rubbing small circles on his stomach.

“Do you know what it means?” Arthur asked suddenly.

Merlin frowned. “Your mother’s sigil?”

Arthur shook his head slightly. “Me giving it to you.”

Merlin tapped the dove’s head. “Not really.”

“It means you’re a part of the royal family.” Arthur whispered, tightening his hold on Merlin’s waist. “It means that if I were to die, you would be next in line for the throne.”

Merlin felt his heart miss a beat. “Arthur- no. I’d make a terrible king.”

“No you wouldn’t.” Arthur rebutted. “You’d make a great king. You have the heart for it, and the wisdom, even if you’re lost on all the formalities.” Merlin made to reject it again, but Arthur pressed a kiss to the back of his ear, distracting him. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not planning on dying anytime soon.”

“You better not be.” Merlin said, tightening his grip on the sigil for a moment. “Do you know how hard I’ve worked to keep you alive?”

Arthur rolled his eyes, Merlin could just make it out in the candlelight. “Yes, I know. My great protector.”

Merlin shifted so he could press his own kiss to Arthur’s jaw. “My golden prince.”

Minutes passed. Slowly, one by one, the candlelight started winking out, the spell that kept the flames alight in the air fading away. Arthur didn’t move, so neither did Merlin, content to let them wink out until they were left in darkness. It settled over them like a blanket, leaving them relaxed and content.

“There is something I know.” Merlin said sometime later, breaking the silence.

Arthur hummed in question, sleepily. “And what’s that?”

Merlin grinned and pressed the brooch to his heart. “That it’s most commonly seen as a marriage proposal when a noble gives it to another.”

Arthur tensed beneath him, sleepiness gone in and instant, and then a nose was buried in his neck. “I didn’t know you knew that.”

“So it’s not a proposal?” Merlin asked carefully.

“It is.” Arthur said, and Merlin felt like he could breathe again. “I just thought you wouldn’t realise. I was going to tell you tomorrow and see the look on your face.”

Merlin snorted and reached up to slap his shoulder lightly. “Prat.”

Arthur grinned and kissed the back of his neck. “Ah, but I’m your prat.”

“Yes.” Merlin agreed. “Yes you are.”


	27. Day Twenty Seven: Enchanted.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, King Arthur Pendragon, marriage, Arthur knows about Merlin's magic.  
Other pairings: Lancelot/Gwen, Gwaine/Percival, Kay/Bedivere.

“Arthur’s been enchanted!”

Gaius jumped as his door was slammed open, the wood bouncing off the stone wall behind it. Some days he worried for that door. It was old, and all it would take would be one more thoughtlessly rough slam to dislodge it from its hinges.

“And what makes you say that?” He asked, raising his eyebrow at his ward.

Merlin had the decency to look apologetic, but it was quickly replaced with his earlier panic. “Because he’s suddenly started talking nonsense, that’s what!”

Gaius sighed. He was getting far too old for this. “Wasn’t he talking nonsense last week as well?”

Merlin huffed and started pacing in front of the table. “Yes, but that was his normal nonsense. This is different.”

Gaius studied his ward closely. He wasn’t often this upset, pacing and muttering to himself. Especially not recently, with Arthur’s ascension to the throne and Morgana’s capture. Indeed, Camelot has been completely peaceful for months, and Gaius could hardly remember a time when everything had been this perfect.

“Different how Merlin?” Gaius asked, watching him closely.

Merlin stopped pacing and met Gaius’s eyes for the first time, and it was only then that he could see the worry and hurt there. “He’s saying he wants to cancel the wedding.”

Gaius blinked. “But it’s today.”

Not to mention how clear it was that Arthur loved Merlin, and had wanted to marry him as soon as possible. He would have married him the instant he had been crowned if it wasn’t for the protests of the council. Two celebrations of such magnitude so close together would have made for a difficult winter, and Arthur had already had his hands full trying to overturn the ban on magic.

So the boys had waited, rather patiently in Gaius’s opinion, for spring to come, and the instant the last of the snow had melted Arthur had announced their betrothal.

“Exactly!” Merlin huffed, collapsing opposite Gaius. “He came back from council this morning saying that he had to do what was best for his heart and his kingdom, and that marrying me was good for neither.” Merlin curled in on himself, and Gaius was abruptly reminded of the young boy that had begged him to tell him he wasn’t a monster, all those years ago. “He claims Lady Cecelia would be a better match for him.”

Lady Cecelia was perhaps the most self-absorbed person Gaius had ever met. She had no regard for anyone other than herself, and Arthur hated her so much Gwen had to convince him not to throw her out of the castle the moment she arrived. There was no way that Arthur would say anything kind about her, not if he were in his right mind.

“This is serious indeed.” Gaius said, nodding to himself. He stood and rested a hand around Merlin’s shoulder. “Where is he now?”

“Leon and Percival are keeping him in our chambers while Mordred tries to figure out what spell he’s under.” Merlin hesitated for a moment, and Gaius, long used to his ways, raised his eyebrow. Merlin crumbled quickly. “It doesn’t matter. Several of the councilmen heard him, and you know Lord Vortimer has been waiting for a chance to get rid of me. He’ll use this to convince the others I’m not worthy of the crown.”

Lord Vortimer was a rotten old man that even Uther had hated. His presence was only tolerated because he held a piece of land vital to Camelot’s trade routes. Without his support there would be no way to trade with Mercia, not if they wanted to avoid the bandit infested woods. It was the only reason Arthur had allowed him to stay on the council, especially after his near violent reaction to the lifting of the ban on magic. He and the Lady Cecelia had been the only ones to react so negatively.

A terrible suspicion hit Gaius like a mace to the chest.

“Merlin.” He said carefully, frozen in place. “Did Arthur mention anyone else? Besides Lady Cecelia.”

Merlin frowned, confused. “Um. No, just her. Why?”

“You need to get Elyan and Kay to search Lady Cecelia’s chambers immediately. And I would suggest Gwen and the servant assigned to Lord Vortimer’s rooms search his as well.”

Merlin’s eyes widened. “You think it was them?”

“Lord Vortimer has opposed Arthur at every turn, even before he announced his plans to lift the ban on magic.” Gaius said. “And Lady Cecelia has made her hatred of you plain to see. She’d do anything to stop this wedding, and if she got be queen as a result-“

“Then all the better for her.” Merlin groaned. “I do think I remember seeing them sneaking around together after council meetings. I never thought-“ He shook his head. “I’ll go get the others, see what we can find. Can you check on Arthur?”

“Of course, my boy.” Gaius said, already reaching for what he would need. Merlin nodded and turned to go, but Gaius had something else he needed to say. “And Merlin!” He spun around, impatiently drumming his fingers against the door. “Arthur isn’t in his right mind. He doesn’t mean anything he says.”

“I know Gaius.” Merlin said, but he smiled in relief all the same. “Thank you.”

And then he was gone, leaving Gaius to throw everything he thought he might need into a bag and rush to the King’s chambers.

Leon and Percival nodded to him when he arrived, and let him in without question. The instant the door opened he could hear muffled yelling and screaming. Worry shot through him and he hurried forwards and into the room, only to stop short at the sight that greeted him.

King Arthur Pendragon was laying straight-backed on his bed, arms pinned down to his side by some invisible force. A cloth had been shoved into his mouth – hence the muffled yelling – and he was clearly trying to glare at something next to his bedside.

That something turned out to be Mordred.

“Gaius!” The young knight exclaimed, relief clear to see. “Thank the goddess you’re here.”

Gaius raises one eyebrow as he eyes Arthur. “Just what is going on here?”

Mordred flinched and glanced away, sheepish. “He started trying to leave about fifteen minutes ago. He said some nonsense about needing to cancel the wedding and find Lady Cecelia.” He gestured helplessly to his king. “I didn’t know what else to do! And then he started screaming at me, so I had to-“

He gestured to the makeshift gag, and Gaius nodded. “You did the right thing Mordred. Allowing him to run loose around the castle in this state would be disastrous.”

Mordred relaxed, clearly relieved. “I don’t know what’s wrong. Merlin thought it was a love spell, but I don’t feel any magic on him.”

“It was most likely a potion.” Gaius said, rummaging through his bag. “They’re almost impossible to sense, since the magic is ingested into the body rather than cast on it.”

Mordred stepped back as Gaius pulled out a light sleeping potion and held it to Arthur’s nose until he stopped moving. Mordred’s eyes faded from gold to blue as he hesitantly let go of the spell holding Arthur down. Arthur’s body relaxed, for the moment.

Gaius knew the potion wouldn’t last long, especially not with the enchantment.

“Can you cure him?” Mordred asked quietly.

“I will certainly try.” Gaius said. “But fist I need-“

Something thumped on the door, and then they were flung open, Merlin stumbling inside. “We found it!”

He held up a small bottle triumphantly. It was glass, the stopper shaped like a heart, and small enough for a jealous Lady or angry Lord to hold it in the palm of their hand without arising suspicion. And, worryingly, it was almost completely empty, the barest amount of red liquid left in the bottom.

Gaius took it immediately, and quickly set to work analysing it. With hope – and a little bit of luck – it would be the exact love potion he suspected it was.

“We found it in Lady Cecelia’s rooms, hidden amongst some other bottles.” Elyan said, and Gaius almost jumped, not having noticed him enter the room.

Kay was standing beside Merlin, eyes on his king-to-be, like he was worried Merlin was about to topple over. From the way he was half bent over, gasping for air, Gaius thought perhaps Kay’s fear was well founded. He must have ran all the way back to Arthur’s side the instant they found the bottle, the foolish boy.

Leon and Percival had followed them in and stood behind Elyan, the door closed shut behind them.

“Gwen and Frida are still searching Lord Vortimer’s chambers.” Merlin huffed out as Gaius sniffed at the potion. “But Kay found a note from him asking Cecelia to meet him tonight to celebrate the success of their plans.”

“They’re clearly working together.” Kay added, shaking his head in disgust.

“I don’t understand.” Leon said quietly, drawing everyone’s attention. “Lord Vortimer and Lady Cecelia _hate_ magic. They’ve both made that quite clear. Why would they use it on their king now?”

“Because they’re hypocrites.” Merlin spat, finally catching his breath. “They’re happy to use magic when it suits them, but when it’s anyone else they condemn them for it.”

Silence descended on the room as Gaius worked, examining the potion until he was sure of what it contained.

“Good news.” Gaius announced, breaking the silence. “I know what Arthur’s been enchanted with.”

Merlin immediately turned hopeful. “You do?”

Gaius held up the bottle. “This is a very weak, very basic love potion that makes the person who drinks it become steadily obsessed with its creator. It also makes them highly susceptible to that person’s suggestions.”

“So that’s why Arthur kept insisting he had to cancel the wedding.” Mordred said. “Lady Cecelia must have told him to do it.”

“Can you break the enchantment?” Merlin asked, worried and desperate in equal measure.

“Yes.” Gaius said, already rifling through his bag. “Nobles used to be doused with this potion every week before the ban. It’s easy to make, and doesn’t require much magical prowess to work.” He pulled a few bottles out of his bag, along with the ingredients he would need to counter the potion. “As such they are easy to counter, especially if you have stronger magic then the caster.”

He cast a significant look at Merlin and he hurried over, the knights all watching with thinly veiled curiosity, especially Mordred. His eyes were locked on Merlin, eager to see the great Emrys use his magic. The ban on magic had been in effect for months now, but to see it was still a rarity, especially to see it from Merlin. His boy wasn’t used to being the centre of attention – and he was even less used to showing off his powers – so he kept to doing small things with his magic, only showing off when Arthur and Arthur alone asked him.

“What do I need to do?” Merlin asked.

His eyes were already speckled with gold, his magic surging forward at the chance to protect his king. Gaius mixed the antidote quickly, the liquid looking not unlike mud. He held it up to Merlin and shook it slightly.

“I need you to repeat after me.”

Merlin nodded and took the bottle, holding it carefully like he was scared it would shatter if he took his eyes off of it. “Okay. Right. I’m ready.”

It had been many years since Gaius had had a need to say this spell, but he had not forgotten the words. It would be hard to, considering all the times he had needed to use it in the past. The words flowed off his tongue easily, and he felt his long dormant magic stir weakly. It was no where near enough to cast the spell, but something about it comforted Gaius all the same. After all these years it was good to know his magic wasn’t gone completely.

Merlin, when he repeated the words, practically vibrated with the force of his power. It was more than the spell needed – much more – but Gaius understood how desperate he was to break the spell over Arthur, how that desperation made his magic that much stronger.

Several people gasped when the liquid in the bottle bubbled and turned a startling purple. Gaius merely took it back from Merlin and, with hasty fingers, forced open Arthur’s mouth and tipped the potion slowly into his mouth, massaging his throat gently to encourage him to swallow.

He stepped back only once all of the potion was gone. Everyone’s eyes were on him, and he could tell they were all brimming with questions, but it was Merlin who broke the heavy silence first.

“What do we do now?”

“We wait.” Gaius said simply, moving back to his bag. “We’ll know if it worked once he wakes.”

Merlin moved to Arthur’s side and took his hand, sitting on the bed next to the sleeping king. The knights all filed out of the room, Gaius following after them after giving Merlin’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. He barely reacted, all his attention on Arthur, and Gaius left the room without another word.

He closed the door behind him and turned to find Gwen and another young servant behind her, the latter looking shaken.

“What happened?” Leon asked, concerned.

“Lord Vortimer- he-“ The other girl – Frida, Gaius remembered – was shaking too hard to finish.

“He attacked us.” Gwen said, matter of fact, though Gaius could tell she too was spooked. “While we were searching his rooms, he came back and saw Frida going through his things.”

Friday nodded, jerkily, and a mess of brown hair fell in her eyes. She pushed it back with a trembling hand. “He- he threatened me. Drew his sword and said he’d r-run me through if I had taken anything.”

“Are you alright?” Elyan asked, looking torn between running off the find the lord and pulling his sister into his arms.

“I’m fine.” Gwen said, waving a hand, though she didn’t stop Elyan when he finally decided to give her a one-sided hug. “He didn’t even see me.”

Percival moved to Frida’s side while Leon smiled gently at her. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

Frida, seemingly calmed by Percival’s presence at her side, shook her head, a little calmer. “Gwen knocked him out.”

Gwen’s lips quirked up in a quick, proud smile. “I hit him in the back of the head with a pot.”

Elyan chuckled. “That’s my sister.”

“Where is he now?” Leon asked, serious even as his lips twitched in amusement.

Gwen gestured vaguely towards the dungeons. “Gwaine and Alexander heard us and came running. They took him to the dungeons.”

“Good.” Mordred said, fist tightening over the pommel of his sword.

“Do you know where the Lady Cecelia is?” Gaius asked. “She was apart of this plot as well.”

Gwen shook her head. “The last I saw her, she was having her lunch with the other noble ladies in the gardens.”

Leon, Kay and Mordred immediately headed off, calling for guards as they went. Percival offered to escort Frida home, and Elyan offered the same to Gwen. Gwen declined, saying she wanted to wait for Arthur to wake, while Frida gratefully accepted, and the two of them disappeared down the hallway.

“Did you manage to break the enchantment?” Gwen asked when they were out of sight.

Gaius nodded. “With Merlin’s help. He should wake soon – the sleeping potion I gave him wasn’t very strong.” He studied Gwen, not bothering at all to be subtle. “But are you sure you’re alright my dear?”

Gwen leaned into Elyan some more and gripped his arm tight. “I am now.”

Gaius nodded, and they quietened for a moment. “I had best go put this bag away. I won’t be long, but come get me immediately if Arthur wakes.”

The siblings both nodded. Gaius hurried back to his chambers, all but throwing his bag down on his table when he got there. He sighed and wondered if Merlin and Arthur would ever know peace. The gods knew they deserved it, after everything they had been through together.

After several minutes spent putting the remainder of his ingredients away he made his way back up to the king’s chambers. His knees protested as he started climbing the staircase – he was getting too old to keep making this trip, even if he was loathed to admit it.

Gwaine and Bedivere were waiting with Elyan and Gwen when he arrived, the two knights unusually quiet and solemn. They greeted Gaius in low murmurs, eyes barely flickering towards him before they returned to the king’s door.

“Where’s Alexander?” Gaius asked, more to fill the silence than from actual curiosity.

“Guarding the bastards in the dungeon with Mordred.” Gwaine spat out. “Leon thought it best that the knights with magic guard them, in case they have something else hidden up their sleeves.”

Glancing around, and not catching sight of the first knight anywhere. “And Leon? Kay?”

“Calming the council.” Bedivere said. “Several of them heard Arthur making plans to cancel the wedding, and Lord Vortimer was trying get them to agree to stopping it without the king’s explicit demand. Then Lady Cecelia was spreading rumours among the noble ladies.” He frowned and glanced at the door. “She was saying the most horrible things about Merlin, even as Leon threw her into her cell.”

Gwaine grunted and looked like he was seriously considering storming down to the dungeons to end the traitors himself.

Gaius was tempted to let him, but knew it would only cause more problems in the future. “Arthur will deal with them.”

Gwen nodded, eyes steely. Elyan glared at the ground, silent, while Bedivere merely crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. Gwaine gripped the end of his sword tighter.

“He better.” Gwaine muttered, and then they all fell back into silence.

Gaius shifted in the silence, his knees protesting the movement. He glanced at the door, worried. Arthur should be awake by now, and while he wanted to give Merlin the space he needed, he was worried. He only refrained from re-entering the room to check on them because he knew Merlin would come to him instantly if something was wrong, and because he knew he might interrupt if Arthur was awake and they were talking.

“Lancelot!” Gwen suddenly exclaimed, making the rest of them jump.

Lancelot grinned as Gwen ran up to him, the most energetic Gaius had seen her since her husband had been sent on a two week long mission to the villages along Camelot’s northern boarders. The druids there had reported a growing population of bandits within their forest, and though many of the knights had wanted to go, including Arthur and Merlin, they had to settle for sending Lancelot and a party of twelve other seasoned knights.

That had been the week Mordred had learned, through an old druid friend, that Morgana planned to attack Camelot, and Arthur could not spare as many men as he had wanted.

Gwen all but threw herself into Lancelot’s arms, and the knight spun her around happily. He was still wearing dirtied armour – apparently he’d only just arrived from his mission.

Lancelot glanced at them over Gwen’s head, and immediately his expression turned grave. “Leon told me what happened. Will Arthur be alright?”

Gaius nodded. “It was a simple enchantment to break.”

Lancelot nodded, relieved, and looped his arm around Gwen’s waist, walking back towards them. “And Merlin?”

Bedivere and Elyan shot him confused looks. Gwaine muttered something under his breath, too quiet to hear, though Gaius suspected it was a curse.

He could only shake his head helplessly. “He knows that anything Arthur said while under the enchantment was a lie, but I fear he may be more effected by it then he wants us to believe.”

They were silent a beat, then Gwen spoke up, an unwavering certainty in her voice. “Arthur will fix it. Whatever it was he said.”

Lancelot nodded, and then Leon came strolling around the corner, Kay and Percival at his heels. They all greeted Lancelot, pleased by his return, though their smiles were dim and fleeting. Percival went to Gwaine’s side, and without prompt wrapped his arms around the smaller man, almost dwarfing him. Gwaine relaxed into the embrace, though one hand still gripped his pommel tight.

“Any change?” Leon asked hopefully as Kay moved to stand next to Bedivere, leaning his head on the taller knight’s shoulder.

“No.” Gaius said. “Though he should have woken up by now. I suspect Merlin is talking to him.”

“Will he even remember what he said?” Gwaine asked, slightly muffled from the fabric of Percival’s shirt. “Arthur I mean. Will he remember what he said while he was enchanted?”

All eyes swivelled to Gaius, and he sighed softly. “Most likely. Unlike most love potions, the nature of this enchantment is less to make the recipient fall in love and more to influence their thoughts and decisions. It’s not even technically a love spell - it’s only thought of as one because that is what it’s most commonly used as.”

Kay sighed and Bedivere pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “A good enchantment to hold over a king.”

Gaius inclined his head. “Indeed.”

Leon opened his mouth at the same time Elyan did, the two of them with questions on the top of their tongues when the door before them fell open. They all startled and Gaius breathed a silent sigh of relief when he saw Arthur and Merlin standing side by side in the doorway.

They both blinked, surprised to see so many people waiting for them, before Gaius stepped forward. “How to you feel sire?”

Arthur grimaced. “Better. Much better.” His eyes flickered to Merlin’s for an instant before they returned to meet Gaius’s stare. “I have no desire whatsoever to call off the wedding. Thank you Gaius.”

Gaius inclined his head at the thanks. Then Arthur greeted the rest of their little waiting party and announced that he had to talk to the council and organise the traitor’s trials before the wedding that afternoon, sending his men off to complete various jobs. Gaius turned to the council rooms, already planning his explanation for what enchantment had befallen the king, though he hesitated at the end of the hallway.

He glanced back and saw Merlin and Arthur stood alone in the doorway to their room. Merlin had a hand to his mouth – giggling – and Arthur was smiling the smile he only ever showed for Merlin, the one full of love and amazement. Then he grabbed Merlin’s cheek and pulled him down slightly so he could press a kiss to his cheek, then his nose, then his lips.

Gaius turned away again, content. He didn’t have to worry about what the future held – his son was happy and loved, and that was all Gaius could ever hope for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's way past October, but I swore to myself I would finish all 31 days, no matter what, and I'm so close! Thank you all for reading, and for your patience.:)


	28. Day Twenty Eight: Dragon.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, King Arthur Pendragon, King Merlin, Arthur knows about Merlin's magic, marriage and dragons. :)  
Other pairings: Gwaine/Percival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready because I am finishing this series today. I've sworn I will, so just watch me. I'm gunna do it.

“My lords.”

The short man bowed in front of their thrones, body almost folding in half as his head hovered a hair's breadth above the ground. Merlin thought it was a little bit excessive, but then he thought everything about his new life was a little bit excessive. Arthur had told him to enjoy the luxuries that came with being the king’s consort – after all, he had his duties, and Merlin had seen how stressful they could become just from watching Arthur for the past four years.

Arthur inclined his head to the man. “Please, rise, and tell us what you have brought.”

The man rose, red curls falling in his face, and gestured for a large box to be brought forward. Merlin fought back his rising curiosity. The box was plain oak wood, nothing special about it, and looked like something a farmer might use to store his tools, or extra blankets for the winter. It was out of place amongst the other, far more ornate wedding gifts, and Merlin had to admit that was the reason it had caught his attention.

The line of lords, ladies, and the occasional commoner – most often the servants that Merlin had befriended during his time as Arthur’s manservant – had seemed endless. Merlin had never seen so much finery, so many jewels, in one place, and they were all for _him_. Well, for him and Arthur, but he knew his newly dubbed husband was already imagining how he would look all dressed up in his new, more expensive outfits.

Though he’d never admit it, he _did _love dressing up in all his new, fine clothes, though the small, most often handcrafted gifts from his friends meant far more to him than any cloth or jewel some bootlicking noble gave him.

“I bring something precious.” The man said. “Something I have been guarding for near twenty five years, ever since the purge first began.”

Merlin glanced at Arthur, his curiosity flaring even as caution wove its way into his heart.

Arthur tilted his head. “You would gift us something so precious?”

He smiled and inclined his head to Merlin. “You are the only one I could give them to, my lord.”

Merlin’s fingertips tingled with magic. “What do you mean?”

“My name is Edmund Ladon.” The man said. “And I come from a family of dragonlords.”

Merlin’s heart skipped a beat. Several people around the room gasped while many others started whispering, everyone looking at the scruffy peasant man in a new light. Arthur turned to face him, his eyes as hopeful as they were cautious.

Merlin sat up straighter on his throne and reminded himself to breathe. “You’re a dragonlord?”

Edmund lowered his eyes and shook his head. “No, my lord. My father and older brother were dragonlords, but the power died with them.”

Merlin closed his eyes for a second, mourning his lost kin. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Edmund inclined his head. “My father heard rumours, during the early months of the purge, that Uther was planning to betray the dragonlords.” He shook his head, an old anger in his eyes. “No one else believed them, or my father when he spoke up. The dragons and the seers saw nothing of Uther’s betrayal, and until that point he had been a trustworthy ally, despite his growing campaign against magic.”

Several people around the room shifted as their eyes fluttered to Arthur. Merlin glanced over out of the corner of his eye to see his husband watching the man with no emotion on his face – a perfect king. But Merlin knew him, knew the secret tells, and Arthur’s lack of emotion was proof enough of how much this information was effecting him. Merlin reached out and gripped his hand gently, and when Arthur’s eyes flickered to his they filled with love and gratitude.

“I meant no offence to you, my lord.” Edmund said quickly. “I know more than most that a son should not be blamed for his father’s crimes.”

Arthur’s eyes snapped back to Edmund. “What?”

Edmund smiled, though it wasn’t a happy expression. “My father, when he saw his kin would not listen to him, decided to take matters into his own hands. He broke into the kings’ chambers and was caught trying to find proof of Uther’s inevitable betrayal.”

He seemed to lose himself in his memory, so it was Merlin who spoke next, voice as gentle as he could make it. “What happened?”

Edmund blinked and their eyes met for the first time. They were a startling green, unlike anything Merlin had ever seen before. Edmund cleared his throat and looked away again.

“He was killed, of course. Uther claimed he had tried to assassinate him- that he was a traitor. Tormund – my brother – he was told our family and all our descendants were disgraced by our father’s deeds, and we were stripped of our titles and forced away. Mother took us south, until we hit the sea, and still we continued on, until we came to a land that knew nothing of us.”

Merlin found himself captivated by the story. A quick glance around the room revealed everyone else was just as equally enthralled. He wished he had met this man on another day, where they could have sat and exchanged stories together rather than here, in the throne room, in the middle of his wedding celebrations.

“There was something else my father did, before he was captured and executed.” Edmund continued. “Something the other dragonlords couldn’t forgive him for.” He looked down, as if he were ashamed, but his eyes said otherwise. “He stole from the dragonlords and hid what he took, where none would be able to find it. He entrusted my brother with its protection, and he guarded it for years until a sickness took him and our mother, and then the burden fell to me.”

“And now you bring it to us.” Arthur said, loud in the following silence.

“I bring them to the last dragonlord, your highness.” Edmund said, bowing his head to Merlin. “It is where they belong.”

Merlin’s heart raced as he finally caught on to what Edmund was saying was in the box. It felt impossible. It felt too good to be true. But his entire being yearned for it to be true, and he had to grip the arms of his throne to keep himself from launching from it and stealing the box away somewhere safe.

“Them?” He asked, voice hoarse and a little bit desperate even to his own ears.

Edmund smiles, revealing small dimples. “Yes, my lord.” He reached for the box and flipped the latch, pushing the lid open. “Them.”

Merlin thought he heard the whole hall gasp with him when the dragon eggs were revealed. They sat in simple cloth, one a brilliant royal purple, the likes of which Merlin had never seen, so deep it would make even the wealthiest king weep, while the other was a cool blue, reminding Merlin of a calm lake in summer. They were beautiful, as beautiful as Aithusa’s egg had been.

Suddenly he was standing in front of them, hands outstretched and hovering over the two eggs.

He glanced to Edmund. For all he wanted to claim them, for all that they called to him, Edmund was the one that had looked after them for all these years. He tilted his head towards them, silently asking his permission, and Edmund nodded, stepping away to give Merlin more space.

He rested his palms on their shells gently, simply feeling the warmth and _life _radiating off them. They were alive, and healthy, and already Merlin could feel their names forming on the tip of his tongue.

He pulled away and stepped back, turning to face first Arthur and then their people.

“These dragon eggs are a sign of hope for all magical beings.” He said, voice raised so all could hear him. “They are proof that the golden age of Albion is upon us, and a reminder that under the Once and Future King magic will once again be celebrated instead of feared.” He caught Arthur’s eye and grinned, magic rushing through him like a wave. “They will be taken to Kilgharrah, The Great Dragon, to be hatched and raised under his guidance.”

He turned away from the cheers and polite applause that followed, towards Edmund, and gripped the man’s arm tightly. “Thank you. This is- there is no way for me to show you how grateful I am.”

“You don’t have to thank me, my lord.” Edmund said as he extracted his hand from Merlin’s grip. “Who else could I take them to? I’m no dragonlord. You and you alone can hatch them.”

Merlin nodded, a little bundle of grief twisting around in his stomach, as it always did when he was reminded of the loss of his kin.

Arthur saved him, his husband having surprised him by wrapping an arm around his waist. “Still, we thank you.” He hesitated, just for a second, before continuing softly. “And I am sorry for your loss.”

Edmund closed his eyes for a second, his pain clear to see, before he nodded. “Thank you sire.”

Arthur smiled and raised his voice. “You should join us to see them hatch.”

Edmunds eyes went wide. He glanced to Merlin, as if expecting him to decline Arthur’s offer.

Merlin grinned and nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, come with us to Kilgharrah’s cave. It’s only a day’s journey, and seeing a dragon hatch is- it’s beautiful.”

Edmund bit his lip, but he was smiling, and Merlin knew he would be joining them.

* * *

“Kilgharrah.” Merlin greeted, nodding his head in respect.

“Young warlock.” The great dragon rumbled. “I believe congratulations are in order, are they not?”

Merlin flushed, even as he grinned so hard his cheeks hurt. “They are.”

He raised his hand, showing off his new wedding ring. Dragons ran along the outside, the carvings so intricate and detailed you could see every individual scale. Merlin had never seen anything like it, and Arthur had been tight-lipped about who he had paid to make it. Merlin suspected at least a little sorcery was used.

Kilgharrah snorted, seemingly unimpressed. “You humans and your trinkets.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “I think it’s beautiful too.”

Golden eyes narrowed, but before Kilgharrah could comment Merlin was racing back towards the mouth of the cave, gesturing for the dragon to follow him as he ran.

“Come on, I have something to show you! I already called Aithusa.” He yelled over his shoulder, and it took everything in him not to spoil the surprise.

“I’m coming.” Kilgharrah huffed, scraping and shuffling noises echoing around them. “I’m not as young as I once was. Nor as fast.”

Merlin laughed. “Don’t lie! I saw you hunting those deer last week – you looked as fast as Aithusa.”

“No dragon has ever been as fast as that hatchling.” Kilgharrah muttered.

As if to prove him right, a large blur ran past him and collided with Kilgharrah’s front. Merlin laughed as Kilgharrah stumbled and Aithusa hopped back, almost hitting her head on the other dragons’ wing in the process.

“Kilgharrah!” She chirped, hopping excitedly. “Have you heard? Merlin, did you tell him?”

Merlin laughed, petting her nose when she shoved it in his face, if only to get her to stop moving for a moment. “Not yet. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“I saw them when I was flying over!” Aithusa said, grinning with all her teeth. “Gwaine did a terrible job of trying to hide them.”

“That’s because knights are thick.” Merlin snorted. “And utterly hopeless.”

Aithusa laughed, the sweet sound filling the cave and echoing out into the forest. They were at the mouth of the cave now, and Kilgharrah stretched his head to the sky, taking it in for a moment. After almost twenty-one years locked away, Merlin could understand why.

Finally he looked back down. “And who is it that I am meeting today, young warlock?”

Merlin grinned. “You’ll see. Come on.”

Aithusa flew above them as Merlin lead them through the trees, her silhouette casting a shadow over them wherever the trees didn’t. He could hear her excited cries as she flew, doing twists and flips in the air. Kilgharrah, who Merlin suspected was quite unused to being on the receiving end of surprises, walked behind him, his footsteps gentle for such a large creature. It was harder for him to get into the air nowadays, his body too heavy for his wings to carry. Merlin worried, but with Aithusa helping take care of him the old dragon was doing fine.

Aithusa screeched and shot down a few trees ahead of them, where the sounds of Arthur and the knights laughing could be heard. Merlin laughed and all but ran after her. Aithusa’s boundless energy was contagious, though Merlin had often heard Kilgharrah mumbling about how she was getting older now, and once she had reached five winters she would be much calmer. Considering she was already three, almost four winters old, Merlin doubted it.

And two new hatchlings certainly wouldn’t calm her down.

Percival spotted him first, calling out a greeting as he entered the clearing. Arthur and Elyan looked up from where they were greeting Aithusa, Leon stopped feeding treats to the horses – who all looked a little spooked, eyeing Aithusa with open fear – while Gwaine didn’t move from his position on the ground in front of the box containing the eggs.

Edmund was the only one who stared at Kilgharrah, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. Merlin thought he saw tears in his eyes, but then he blinked and was rushing over, eyes still glued to Kilgharrah. He stopped just short of running into Merlin and bowed lowly.

“Great Dragon.” He said, and rose. “My name is Edmund Ladon. My father-“

“I remember your father.” Kilgharrah said, and though it wasn’t quite a snarl Edmund still flinched back slightly. “The dragonlord that called us all fools. The dragonlord that had no prophetic abilities, but thought he knew better than the rest of us. The dragonlord that stole away in the night with two orphan dragon eggs that were never seen again.”

Edmund gritted his teeth, fists clenching as anger took over his expression, replacing the awe and reverence in an instant. He was fighting the urge to yell, to defend his father, and Merlin could all but see him swallowing back his words.

Kilgharrah sighed. “Lord Ladon was right. Had we of listened to him, perhaps there would be more dragons and dragonlords in the world today.”

Edmund blinked, shocked, and hesitantly nodded, accepting the silent apology for what it was. “Thank you.”

Arthur approached and clapped Edmund on the shoulder, completely dissolving the sober mood. “Edmund here has brought us something special.”

“Something you need to see.” Merlin said.

He waved to Gwaine. The knight walked over, carefully carrying the box, looking more serious than Merlin had ever seen him. He’d been extremely protective of the eggs ever since they had started their journey, almost as protective as Merlin and Edmund had been, and while he’d had to endure a little teasing, he hadn’t let the eggs out of his sight for a moment.

“Here.” He murmured, gently setting the box down on the ground.

Kilgharrah stared at the box, curious, though none would guess it unless they knew him. Aithusa hopped around them, excited, before settling beside Merlin, eyes locked on the box. The knights slowly gathered around them. All eyes were on Merlin, and for a moment he felt the weight of an entire future on his shoulders, but then that moment was gone and he lifted the lid with ease, stepping back so the dragons could see inside.

Kilgharrah, for perhaps the first time since Merlin had met him, gasped in shock. The two eggs seemed to draw in all the light in the clearing until it looked like they were glowing, brilliant blue and purple.

Kilgharrah bower his head, eyes closed. “They live.”

“They do.” Edmund whispered. “My father swore to keep them safe until the time was right, and my brother swore he would hatch them when they could live freely. With both of them gone, I swore to deliver them to the last dragonlord, no matter the cost.”

Aithusa stretched her neck forward, nosing at the blue egg with her snout. “I can feel them. They’re eager to hatch.”

Everyone turned back to Merlin then, expectant. Arthur squeezed his hand and kissed him, gentle and encouraging, before stepping back. Merlin approached the box again, feeling something ancient and wild stir within him with every step. He recognised the feeling – the night he hatched Aithusa was suddenly sharp and clear in his mind, the same power rising then as it was now – and he embraced it, letting it consume him as his hands hovered over the dragon eggs.

Two names rose on his tongue, fighting their way up his throat, and though he feared they might tangle with each other as they left his mouth, both were clear and certain when he spoke.

“_Elpízo. Thalassa._”

He opened his eyes, not sure when he had shut them and not caring in the slightest, as both eggs started the crack. He heard several gasps behind him, though he couldn’t tell who it was. He heard Arthur, that he knew for certain, but everyone else was indistinguishable from one another.

The purple dragon hatched first, the shell falling away to reveal dark purple scales freckled with lilac. Golden eyes fixed on Merlin for a moment before the baby dragon yawned, fangs tiny but sharp. Then the blue egg tumbled into the dragon, making him squeal and the both of them fall sideways, wings flapping as they tried to stay upright. Merlin reached for the blue dragon, pulling her free and holding her gently at eye-level.

Sapphire eyes stared into his, curious, and then a little tongue snaked out and licked at his nose. Merlin spluttered and laughed, setting her back down on her feet so he could get a proper look at her.

She was bright blue, paler than the sky, her eyes a beep sapphire colour Merlin had never seen before. There were little silver-white flecks on her belly, running all the way along the bottom of her tail, which ended in a white tip. When she stretched her wings they too were a pale blue, matching the rest of her body.

Merlin had thought he remembered how magnificent and beautiful hatching Aithusa had been, but he found himself speechless in his wonder, staring at these two hatchlings with so much happiness he felt tears rolling down his cheeks before he could even think to stop them.

“A male and a female.” Kilgharrah said, filled with wonder. “There is hope for the future of dragonkind. And with them, there is hope for the future of the dragonlords.”

Merlin jolted. “What do you mean?”

“If a dragon’s first fire is breathed on a human, that human becomes a dragonlord, if their soul is willing and their body strong enough.” Kilgharrah explained, eyeing the hatchlings like he hadn’t just shook Merlin’s entire world.

He grasped for something to ask. “If the soul is willing- what does that even mean?”

The Great Dragon chuckled, and Merlin wondered for the hundredth time if he only spoke in riddles because he found it amusing to confuse everyone around him. “I mean, young warlock, that if their soul accepts the power of a dragon’s fire they will be blessed with the gifts of a dragonlord.”

Arthur frowned. “And if their soul doesn’t accept it?”

“Then they will be turned to ash.” Kilgharrah grinned, deliberately unnerving, and Merlin glared at him.

“So we need to find two people willing to stand in a newborn dragon’s fire, in the hopes that they will survive and turn into a dragonlord?” Merlin reiterated slowly, then shook his head. “We can’t ask someone to risk their life like that!”

“It is the only way.” Kilgharrah growled. “Or would you rather be forever alone?”

Merlin flinched back and Arthur was by his side in a second, arms wrapped around him.

“Enough!” He yelled, shooting Kilgharrah a glare of his own. “Merlin is right. This is not something we can simply rush into.”

The chirping of the hatchlings filled the air, everyone else tense and silent, until even they stopped, curious eyes on Merlin and the dragon towering over them.

“Why didn’t you tell me all of this when I hatched Aithusa?” Merlin asked, loud in the following quiet.

“Because it was too dangerous. Magic was still outlawed, and there was no human I trusted with the power.” He huffed. “Or any that I thought might survive the process.”

“And you think there are now?” Merlin bit out.

“I know there are.” Kilgharrah said simply.

That gave Merlin pause. “Who?”

Aithusa had approached the hatchlings and was carefully nudging at them both, her snout big enough to topple them over if she pushed hard enough. Elpízo was curled up in the box, purple wings outstretched as he yawned again, already tired despite only just having been born. Merlin might have worried, except Kilgharrah didn’t seem to think it unusual. Maybe being hatched was more tiring than one would think.

Thalassa – obviously the more energetic of the two – pawed at Aithusa whenever she could, trying the draw the older dragon into a game. It worked, Aithusa crying out softly and playfully snapping at Thalassa’s tail. The baby dragon squealed and scrambled away, tripping over Elpízo as she did, annoying the other hatchling and drawing him into their game of chase.

“A human is almost guaranteed to survive the process if they already have dragonlord blood running through their veins.” Kilgharrah finally said, then looked pointedly at Edmund, as if he thought they were all stupid.

Edmund himself was shocked into complete stillness, his mouth hanging open slightly. “Wha- wait, are you saying you can make _me_ a dragonlord?”

“Yes.”

“Or it could kill you.” Merlin warned. “Edmund, are you sure about this?”

“I spent my entire life surrounded by a power I knew everything about but could never have.” Edmund said, looking directly into Merlin’s eyes. “I remember watching my father teach my brother how it felt to call a dragon for the first time, and how to ride a dragon without fear of falling.” His tone gentled as he turned to the two hatchlings. “I have wanted this for as long as I can remember. I am sure.”

Merlin nodded. He couldn’t argue with him. This was his choice, and Merlin would respect it.

“There is another here who might survive the gift.” Kilgharrah said, stopping Merlin from saying anything.

Then he looked directly at Gwaine.

Everyone turned to stare at Gwaine, the knight strangely quiet, for once uncomfortable with the attention.

“_Gwaine_?” Arthur asked, disbelieving.

Gwaine seemed to struggle with himself for a moment before came to a decision, eyes uncertain but determined. “Alright, yes. I have dragonlord blood. My great grandfather was a knight in Essetir’s army, and was granted a lordship because of his powers.”

“Gwaine.” Merlin whispered – he didn’t think he could speak much louder. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“What would it have mattered?” Gwaine shrugged. “My grandfather was second born. He didn’t get any powers, no lordship, and he was all but abandoned by his father in favour of his brother.” He sighed and shook his head. “I didn’t even know the man. He died in battle four years before I was born, and any connection I had to my dragonlord blood died with him.”

Merlin looked away, the quiet consuming them before Kilgharrah spoke again. “What will you do, Strength?”

“Kilgharrah!” Merlin protested.

Gwaine glanced to the hatchlings. Both were fighting Aithusa now, struggling to take the older dragon down. They clearly had no hope, but Aithusa was encouraging them, dramatically falling when Elpízo jumped on her side. It made Gwaine grin.

“I became a knight because I wanted to protect people.” He stared directly into Merlin’s eyes, begging him to understand. Merlin did, and he hated it. “I want to protect them too.”

“You can’t protect anyone if you’re dead.” Merlin protested weakly.

He knew it was useless.

Gwaine smiled cockily. “I’ll be fine. You heard big and scaly over there- almost guaranteed. Besides, when has anything bad ever happened to me?”

Merlin snorted and crossed his arms. “Something bad happens _all _the time Gwaine. Especially to you.”

The knights all laughed, but it was half forced, any humour quickly fading away as they all realised how serious Gwaine was. Images of Lancelot walking into the veil, Freya dying in his arms, his father, _Will_, all flashed through his mind, and he had pulled Gwaine into a hug before he knew what he was doing.

“Please.” He gasped out, throat burning as he forced back tears. “I can’t loose anyone else.”

“You won’t.” Gwaine assured him, then pulled away.

Merlin watched as Percival pulled Gwaine to the side to whisper something fiercely, a strange mix of worry, pride and awe in his eyes. Merlin wondered if that’s how he looked when Arthur said something particularly kingly, or fought in a battle that he might not survive without showing a hint of fear.

Embarrassingly, he realised he probably looked _exactly_ like that.

Arms wrapped around his middle, startling him for a moment, before he recognised Arthur’s gentle breath in his ear and leaned back into him. Neither of them spoke, simply finding comfort in each other.

“This must be done now.” Kilgharrah said, startling them all. “Before the hatchlings breathe their first flame on their own.”

“Right.” Merlin muttered, extracting himself from Arthur’s arms. “Gwaine!”

“I’m ready.” Edmund said.

“Me too.” Gwaine said, moving to Edmunds side. “Let’s do this.”

Merlin released a shaky breath. “Okay.”

He walked to the young dragons still playing, still feeling hesitant, but Gwaine’s determination spurred him on. Aithusa shook the other two off and sat at Kilgharrah’s side, bowing her head to Merlin. Elpízo and Thalassa shook themselves and stumbled to their feet, chirping quietly as they watched Merlin approach them curiously.

“Hey there.” He whispered gently, holding his hands out.

Thalassa chirped and licked at his hand while Elpízo butted his head against Merlin’s palm, golden eyes wide and sparkling. He let Merlin run his hand down his neck before Thalassa, jealous of the attention, jumped on the other dragon.

“Hey!” Merlin exclaimed, grabbing Elpízo and standing. “No fighting.”

Thalassa huffed, and if dragons could pout, she would be pouting, Merlin knew.

He smiles. “_Éla_.”

She perked up at the command, trotting at Merlin’s feet as he made his way back to where Gwaine and Edmund were standing. She studied Gwaine curiously, tilting her head to the side when he grinned at her. Merlin sat Elpízo in front of Edmund, the dragon yawning and curling up on the ground, though Merlin could see one eye peaking open, observing Edmund with as much curiosity as Thalassa was watching Gwaine.

Merlin glanced up at Kilgharrah, confused. “Now what?”

“You must command them.” The old dragon said, eyes twinkling, as he sat back on his hunches.

Aithusa took one look at him and copied his pose, wings pulled back and head held high. The knights, all clearly trying not to laugh, looked away. Arthur caught his eye and nodded slightly. Merlin nodded back. He turned to the hatchlings, considering, as magic tingled through his veins. He breathed out slowly and felt something ancient crawl up his throat.

“_O drakon, pneuma bæl on bryne me aftoús tous ándres kai tous parachoríste ti dýnami ton drakons_.”

Thalassa shuddered, her wings stretching out as she dug her claws into the ground. Elpízo pushed himself up onto his feet, kneading the ground as he went. His tail whipped back and forth behind him as he slowly gathered himself. Thalassa made a small sound in the back of her throat, like she was trying to breathe fire and failing. It happened again and again, until Merlin worried she might not be able to do it at all.

Then there was a _whoosh_ to Merlin’s left, and everyone in the clearing gasped as a spurt of flames left Elpízo’s mouth. Edmund flinched back, but it was too late, and the flames surrounded him. Merlin jerked forward, magic at his fingers and the words to douse the fire on his tongue, when Gwaine yelped as Thalassa shot a jet of fire right at his heart. It expanded in an instant, swallowing him in a golden fire.

The knights all startled, reaching for their swords on instinct. Merlin raised a hand to each man, intent on extinguishing the flames.

“Wait.” Kilgharrah rumbled, making everyone freeze.

Then it was over, as fast as it began. Both dragons snapped their jaws shut and the flames surrounding both men snapped out of existence.

Edmund stumbled and collapsed on the ground, heaving and shaking. Gwaine, in contrast, stood unnaturally still, eyes closed and face screwed up, though he didn’t look like he was in pain. Percival rushed to his side, along with Elyan and Leon, so Merlin crouched by Edmunds side. He hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder, relieved when the man wiped his mouth and sat back.

“It burns.” He said, voice hoarse.

“Like drinking wagons full of the worst ale.” Gwaine agreed, chest heaving slightly.

“Is that normal?” Arthur asked, glancing up at Kilgharrah.

“It is the dragonlord in their blood awakening.” Kilgharrah said proudly.

Hope flared in his chest. “It worked?”

Kilgharrah lowered his head until his eyes were level with them. “It did. Welcome, young dragonlords.”

Merlin’s whole being felt like it had suddenly come alive, as if gaining two kin had brought him to life somehow, where before he had been empty and alone. It was how he had felt when he had hatched Aithusa, but _more_ somehow. Arthur wrapped an arm around him and Merlin turned and his face in his shoulder to hide his tears.

He wasn’t alone anymore – he was no longer the last dragonlord.

He couldn’t think of a better wedding gift.


	29. Day Twenty Nine: Blue.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, Prince Arthur Pendragon, magic reveal, angst.

An ornate dagger. A red cloak. Fire, and a scream he just barely recognised as his own. Uther, sleeping; Morgana above him, dagger in hand. She rose it to strike as Uther woke, shock, disbelief and then, finally – fear. The dagger arched down, aimed for Uther’s chest, and Merlin ripped himself away from the crystal.

“What's that?” He asked, cradling his head as it throbbed in pain. “What was that?”

He spun around, something like anger or fear in his chest, searching for Taliesin. For answers.

But Taliesin was gone.

“No.” Merlin denied, backing away from the crystal as he shook his head. “No. That can’t be our only future.”

He stumbled away from the damned crystal, head pounding and cave spinning. His foot slipped, on what he couldn’t tell, and he cried out as he tumbled to the floor. He managed to catch himself on his hands and knees, palms scraped on the rock. His face was an inch away from another crystal.

It lit up, images forming, exactly as the other had.

Merlin wanted to shut his eyes. He wanted to close them tight and refuse to look. Refuse to acknowledge whatever horrible future this crystal would show.

But he couldn’t. Whether it was the magic or his own damned curiosity, Merlin’s eyes stayed open, and he watched.

He watched as Camelot burned, worse than it had when Kilgharrah had attacked, watched as people died and buildings fell. Watched as Camelot fell. Then he watched as Lancelot, in full knights’ armour, walked open armed into a dark veil. His magic tingled, dangerous, and he knew whatever it was, it was bad. Then the scene shifted again, and he watched a white dragon – a baby, he was so small, he had to be a baby – be shot out of the sky and thrown into a well, chained and deep enough that no one would ever be able to find him, and then Morgana was thrown down next to him, chained as well, and then- Merlin wrenched his eyes away.

His head hurt worse than before. It was like a stabbing at his temples now, so persistent and sharp it felt like a knife being driven into his skull.

He cradled his head in his hands, breath quick, as he sat on the floor of the Crystal Cave and tried desperately not to cry.

“What does it all mean?” He whispered hoarsely.

He glanced at a crystal by his feet – Arthur, brilliant, beautiful, golden Arthur – stood, pain filtering through his expression as he looked down.

Down at the sword embedded in his stomach.

Merlin screamed.

His magic burst out in a wave, uprooting any nearby crystals and sending them flying. He couldn’t stop seeing it, preserved with crystal clear clarity in his mind. The sword. Arthur. His prince, his friend, his _everything_. Merlin had seen Arthur in pain before, had seen him hurt before, but this was worse. It was so much worse, because that had not looked like a wound one healed from.

“What happened to Albion’s golden age?” Merlin asked the empty cave. “Was that a lie too?”

He got no response. Of course he didn’t – Taliesin was gone, had left him alone in this beautiful, horrible cave where magic was born and the crystals glowed a cold blue. A cold blue that showed nothing but the horrors of the future.

Merlin slowly got to his feet. The room spun as his head throbbed again, almost sending him right back down to the ground. He grit his teeth and pushed through it – he couldn’t stay, his Arthur needed him. _His_ Arthur – living and breathing and whole – and that was what mattered, not some distant future that might not even come to pass.

Something gold flickered in the corner of his eye, and he had turned to look at it before he could think better of it.

It was a rather small crystal, tucked away into the wall, just barely in sight. Its gold outshone the cold blue easily, the warmth of it an almost physical thing. Merlin was drawn to it, in a different way to how he had been drawn to the others. The others had all filled him with a sense of dread. This crystal, small as it was, filled him with such hope it _hurt_.

He reached out slowly, his whole arm shaking, and gently cupped the crystal in the palm of his hand.

Immediately the gold of the crystal cleared, and an image rapidly appeared in its surface. Merlin instantly recognized Arthur – golden and beautiful in his ceremonial armour – but it took him a moment to recognise himself, at Arthur side like always, but not how he usually was.

He was dressed in royal purple, for one, the fabric obviously finer than anything he’d ever owned. His tunic, trousers, even his _boots_ looked like they were made from the finest of materials, and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why.

They were stood in front of what looked like the whole of Camelot – Merlin hadn’t ever seen the throne room so packed, not even for Arthur’s coming of age celebration. They were facing each other, and he could see the both of them smiling, happier than he can remember either of them ever being. It didn’t make sense. What kind of future was this?

Then he saw the crown of gold on his head, and the ring Arthur was suddenly slipping onto his finger.

Merlin’s head spin. He thought he might fall again, if he hadn’t already. Perhaps this was some strange dream. Maybe he was back at Camelot, tucked in bed, dreaming of a future where Arthur loved him the way a prince could never love his manservant. Or maybe he’d died, and this was all a prank by the gods, showing him the future he wished for but could never have.

But because he was foolish and hopeful, he dared, just for the moment, to believe this future could be true.

“How?” He whispered, clutching the golden crystal tightly.

The image in the crystal swirled and changed once more.

* * *

Merlin was there when Arthur awoke, sore and a little bit bruised but otherwise unharmed. Taliesin’s healing spell had done its job nicely – too nicely, in fact.

“What happened?” Arthur asked, sitting up and wincing, hand immediately going to his shoulder. “Merlin?”

“I’m here.” Merlin said, at Arthur’s side in an instant, probing at his shoulder to check if it wasn’t as healed as he had thought. “You were shot with an arrow. The shock of it knocked you out cold.”

Merlin expected some form of retort – something like _I’m not a girl _Mer_lin, I wouldn’t faint from an arrow, I’m the prince of Camelot and a hardened knight _– but instead Arthur squeezed his hand tighter and felt at his back, pushing Merlin’s fingers aside and poking at the once-life-threatening injury.

“Shot?” He asked, quieter than Merlin had expected, and with not near as much gruff disbelief. “How come all I can feel is a slight bruise?”

Merlin shifted, uneasy. This was the part that Arthur wouldn’t like. The part that would decide the future – if Merlin were brave enough. If only it wasn’t so hard – lying never really came naturally to him, but neither, it seemed, did telling the truth.

But golden light flashed in his memory, Arthur by his side, loving him, _marrying_ him, for all to see and without any fear. Merlin wanted that, no matter how slim the chance.

He took a deep breath and squeezed Arthur’s hand. “There’s something I need to tell you.” 


	30. Day Thirty: Forever.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is actually a part two to the thirteenth chapter in this little collection of oneshots! So I suggest reading (or re-reading) that part so that this one makes more sense. :)
> 
> Tags for this oneshot: Canon era, Prince Arthur Pendragon, Arthur knows about Merlin's magic, dragon Arthur Pendragon, marriage.

“We met a man in the forest.” Merlin said, casual as he could be, as Gaius set a bowl of soup down in front of him.

Gaius raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “And why are you telling me this?”

Merlin gnawed on his bottom lip, knowing what Gaius was going to say, the lecture he was going to get, knowing he had to tell him anyway. Gaius was the closest thing he had to a father – there were very few things he could keep from him without feeling the guilt eat him up on the inside.

“He saw me do magic.” He blurted out, wincing when Gaius’s face immediately froze. “And he found out about Arthur.”

At that Gaius sat straight, faint panic in his eyes. “What happened?”

Merlin explained, between spoonfuls of soup, how he had taken Arthur over Camelot’s boarders into Essetir, how Arthur had flown for perhaps the first time in his life, and how a strange man had caught them both and put a knife to Merlin’s throat. At that Gaius studied him carefully, but it had been nearly a week now, and any scrapes or bruises had healed completely. That wasn’t why he was telling Gaius anyway. He needed answers on just one thing, and if anyone were to know, it would be Gaius.

“He knew instantly Gaius.” He said, confused. “He knew that the dragons were gone, and he knew Arthur wasn’t one, but there seemed like there was more to it than that. He said something, something I didn’t understand. It wasn’t the Old Tongue, or any kind of spell, but I can’t think of what else it could have been.”

Gaius, unexpectedly, turned pale. “Merlin-“

“Do you know him?” Merlin asked, because he couldn’t think of any other reason Gaius would react like he’d seen a ghost.

“Merlin.” Gaius said quietly. “What was the mans’ name? Did he tell you?”

Merlin swallowed. “Balinor. He said his name was Balinor.”

Merlin knew something was terribly wrong. Gaius was horribly pale, and he looked the way Merlin imagined he often looked when he was caught in an unconvincing lie.

“Gaius?” He asked, hesitant. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to know anymore. “Do you know him?”

“I do.” Gaius said, haltingly, like he was wrestling with the words as they left his mouth. “I haven’t heard anything about him for years, though I knew he was in Essetir.”

Merlin leaned forward. “Who is he?”

Gaius studied him for a long time, so long Merlin thought he wasn’t going to answer, before he sighed. “Balinor was once a member of Camelot’s court.”

Merlin gasped. “He was a lord?”

“Not quite.” Gaius shook his head. “He was a dragonlord.”

“A dragonlord?”

“They were men who could talk to the dragons, tame them. Uther believed that the art of a dragonlord was too close to magic. So he had them all rounded up and slaughtered.”

Merlin winced in sympathy. “But Balinor survived. How?”

Gaius leaned closer, voice a whisper, though there was no one else around to hear. “I helped him escape.”

Merlin gasped. “Gaius!”

He leaned back, a strange look in his eye. “Merlin. Have you never heard the name Balinor before?”

Merlin frowned. “No.”

“Your mother never mentioned him?”

Merlin frowned harder. “My mother?”

Gaius nodded. “She took him in.”

Merlin’s eyes went wide. “She stood up against Uther?”

Pride shone in Gaius’s eyes. “Yes.”

Merlin wondered how he’d never heard about any of this before. Why hadn’t his mother told him? This was the kind of tale Merlin would have loved to hear as a child, on the nights where his magic scared him worse than anything else in the world. He sat back in his chair, staring at his soup.

“She was brave.” He said finally.

“Yes.” They were silent, for a moment, the both of them thinking. Then Gaius continued. “When Uther discovered where Balinor was, he sent knights to Ealdor to hunt him down. He was forced to flee.”

Merlin frowned and couldn’t keep himself from asking. “Why didn’t my mother tell me any of this?”

“Merlin, I promised her I would never speak of these things.” Gaius said, studying him intently.

Merlin swallowed. “Of what?”

“I've always treated you as my son, but that is not what you are.” Gaius said, and Merlin very suddenly wanted to tell him to stop. He didn’t want to hear this. “The man you met that day was your father.”

Merlin felt like he’d been punched. “My father?”

“Yes.” Gaius nodded, eyes searching his for something Merlin wasn’t sure he’d find.

“He’s alive?” Merlin felt like he couldn’t breath. He had met his father. He’d met his father, and he hadn’t even known. “Why did no one ever tell me?”

“I wanted to.” Gaius said, finally looking away. “Your mother feared it would be too dangerous.”

Merlin shook his head. “I had a right to know!”

Gaius reached out, as if to take his hand. “She wanted to protect you.”

Merlin yanked his hand back and stood, surprised by the fierceness of his anger. “No! I had a right to know.”

He stormed from the room, not knowing where he was going but not surprised when he found himself in Arthur’s rooms. Arthur was sitting in front of the fire, turning something over and over in his hands, too small for Merlin to figure out what it was.

He slammed the door shut behind him, making Arthur startle.

“Merlin?” Arthur asked, standing quickly. “What are you doing here?”

Merlin shook his head and turned, reaching for Arthur’s travel bags and stuffing the closest clean clothes in it. He ignored Arthur’s questions, concentrating on filling the pack, until Arthur’s hands gripped his shoulders and forced him to turn.

“Merlin, what are you doing?” Arthur asked, shaking him slightly.

Merlin gripped Arthur’s wrist with his free hand, tight. “We’re going back to Essetir, and we’re going to find that man again.”

“Balinor?” Arthur asked, bewildered, and Merlin closed his eyes tight. “Why would we ever want to find him again?”

Merlin dropped the pack and gripped Arthur’s other wrist. His fiancé – and gods, two days was not enough time for Merlin to be used to calling him that – moved both hands to cup his cheeks, concern written all over his face.

“He’s my father.” He forced out, barely a whisper, but he heard the hitch in Arthur’s breath and knew he’d heard.

He opened his eyes, slowly, to Arthur’s shocked face, and though he didn’t know why, the sight alone made him want to cry.

Arthur nodded, and let him go to pick up the abandoned pack. He held it up to Merlin, and grasped their hands together over it. He looked determined, as determined as Merlin had been to help him fly.

“Then let’s go find him.”

* * *

Standing beside the river, in the exact same spot he had first met his father, Merlin squared his shoulders and tried to will his heart to stop beating so fast. Arthur stood by his side, hand in his and presence a steady rock that kept him from giving in and running.

“Do you think he’s still here?” Arthur asked, scanning the area around them.

“I don’t know.” Merlin said. “My magic doesn’t seem to think so.”

Arthur hummed. “Could he be hiding behind a spell of his own?”

“Maybe.” Merlin grinned, teasing. “Since when did you start getting good ideas?”

“Hang on!” Arthur protested. “I always have good ideas!”

Merlin laughed. “You do not! You decided it would be a good idea to play games in the middle of the night!”

“I seem to remember that night turning out very well.” Arthur purred, tugging him close and kissing the corner of his mouth.

Merlin giggled and turned his head, accepting a deeper kiss. He felt Arthur hum against his lips, and for the first time in days he felt calm.

“If you two came out here to have a secret rendezvous, I suggest you pick somewhere other than my doorstep.”

Merlin squeaked and jumped away from Arthur, his magic tingling in his fingertips. He spun around, hand raised, to find Balinor staring at them from the trees.

“What are you doing here?” Merlin blurted out before he could stop himself.

Balinor raised his eyebrows. “This has been my home since Uther killed my kin and chased me out of Camelot.” His expression darkened. “Not that he was satisfied just chasing me out of Camelot.”’

Merlin barely heard him, but what did hear made his breath catch. “What do you mean?”

Balinor seemed to shake himself, closing off in an instant. “Why are you both here? There’s nothing out here.”

“Exactly.” Arthur said, hesitantly reaching for Merlin’s hand. Merlin took it without a second thought. “It’s the perfect place for us to go.”

Merlin squeezed Arthur’s hand tight and got an answering squeeze in return. “But that’s not the reason we’re here today.”

Balinor glanced between them. “Then why?”

“Gaius told me he helped you escape, when Uther killed the other dragonlords.” Merlin started.

That gave Balinor pause. “Gaius?”

Merlin nodded. “Where did you go? After he helped you escape?”

“Why does it matter to you?” Balinor asked, on edge now.

Merlin shook his head and stepped forward. “Please. Humour me.”

Balinor stared at him for a long time, before glancing at Arthur and sighing. “There's a place called Ealdor.”

“Yes.” Merlin said, eager.

Balinor’s eyes faded, like he was suddenly far away. “I had a life there. A woman. A good woman.” Yes, Merlin wanted to say. Wanted to cry, because he knew what happened before Balinor continued. “Ealdor is beyond Uther's realm, but still he pursued me. Why would he not let me be? What was it that I had done that he wanted to destroy the life I built, abandon the woman I loved? He sent knights to kill me. I was forced to come here, to this!”

He gestured around them, to the river and the trees, and for the first time Merlin saw the opening of a cave behind Balinor. His heart hurt, thinking of his father living like this, alone in the woods, so close to Ealdor and yet so far.

He swallowed. “I grew up there.”

Balinor frowned. “Ealdor?”

“Yes.” Merlin nodded. “I know the woman.”

Balinor jerked at that. “Hunith? She’s still alive?”

“Yes. She’s my mother.” Merlin could feel himself shaking, and suspected if Arthur wasn’t there he would have flown apart by now.

Balinor withdrew, the light in his eyes fading. Merlin stepped towards him, Arthur moving with him, until they were only a few paces apart.

Balinor cleared his throat. “Then she married. That’s good.”

“No. She never married. “ Merlin’s mouth went dry, and he had to force the next words out. “I’m your son.”

Silence. Merlin’s heart raced. What was Balinor thinking? Would he believe him? Would he _accept_ him? He didn’t know – he hardly knew the man, after all. So he waited, leaving Balinor to his thoughts, even as the silence slowly killed him.

Finally, _finally_, Balinor spoke. “I don’t know what it is to have a son.”

Merlin couldn’t help but smile, a little hopeful and a little uncertain. “Or I a father.”

Balinor looked lost for words. Merlin knew how he felt, and they trailed off into silence again. Arthur wrapped an arm around his waist and Merlin leaned into him, not taking his eyes off his father, who in return didn’t take his eyes off of them.

“I think you two should come inside.” Balinor said, turning and disappearing into the cave.

Merlin glanced at Arthur before following his father, Arthur’s hand still grasped in his. The cave was as cosy as a cave could be. A small fire in the middle of the cave lit up the space nicely, revealing a bed made of furs in the far corner and shelves lined the walls, filled with herbs and other things Merlin didn’t recognize.

Balinor sat on the far side of the fire, poking it quietly with a stick. Merlin and Arthur sat opposite him, and Merlin lasted all of a few seconds before he had to speak up.

“Why did you never return?”

Balinor glanced at him, then away. “I thought her life would be better without me.”

Merlin made a disbelieving sound in the back of his throat. “Why?”

He glared at Arthur, just for a moment. “Uther wanted me dead. If he'd found me, he'd have killed me, and your mother. I wanted her to be safe.”

“We could have come with you.” Merlin argued.

Balinor gestured to the cave around them. “What kind of life would you have had here?”

“We would have been… happy.” Merlin said, but his shoulders slumped. He understood what Balinor was saying. “We would have been together.”

“Perhaps you still could be.” Arthur murmured, drawing their attention.

Merlin blinked, confused. “Arthur?”

Arthur turned to Balinor. “I cannot undo what my father has done, but I can try to right his wrongs. I know he no longer searches for you, and if he were to learn of your whereabouts I would be the first he told. We’d be able to warn you before any knights even left Camelot.”

“Yes.” Merlin grinned, excited now. “We could take you to Ealdor, and you wouldn’t have to live in fear of knights attacking at any moment.”

Balinor studied Arthur, mistrust in his eyes. “And how am I supposed to trust you?”

Merlin wanted to protest, but Arthur didn’t even look surprised. “I know what it is to live without a parent, and it’s not something I’d wish on anyone.” He glanced at Merlin, struggling for a moment, before he muttered. “Especially not someone I care for.”

Merlin’s heart fluttered. Arthur wasn’t one to voice his affections so clearly – Merlin knew how hard it was for him, after being raised to hide away such emotions.

“And you know my secret.” Arthur hurriedly finished, turning back to Balinor.

Balinor nodded, and that seemed to be enough, but he still looked uncertain. “She won’t recognise me.”

“Balinor.” Merlin pleased. “Father. Please.”

Balinor sighed. “Very well. But not today. Night is almost upon us.”

Merlin nodded. “Tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow.”

* * *

“Merlin!”

Merlin laughed as his mother pulled him into a tight hug. He hugged her back, sinking into her arms the way he always had. When he pulled back she took his head in her hands and examined him closely, kissing him on the forehead when she was done.

“Hello mother.” He laughed. “It’s good to see you too.”

Hunith smiled. “It _is_ good to see you, my son. But why are you here?”

She was concerned, Merlin could tell, and he quickly reassured her. “Everything’s fine. Better than fine, actually.”

“Oh?” She smiled warmly. “I think you should come inside and tell me all about it.”

“I will, but first, there’s someone I think you should see.” He gestured for her to stay and ran to the side of the house where Arthur and his father were standing, waiting with the horses.

Balinor looked nervous, his hands smoothing down his hair and not-really-trimmed beard. Merlin sent him a tight-lipped smile – he was nervous too. Not just about his parents meeting again for the first time in nineteen years, but also because he was going to use this visit to tell his mother about his engagement. She knew, of course, that they had been courting, because Merlin hadn’t been able to _not_ send her a letter the day after Arthur had kissed him, but she didn’t know he had proposed. Not yet.

He grabbed Arthur’s hand. “Come on.”

Balinor nodded to him, a thanks for the few extra moments this would buy him, and Merlin nodded back. He just hoped his father didn’t run, or pass out. Either option looked like they might be likely, if the panic written all over his body was anything to go by.

“Prince Arthur!” His mother gasped when she saw them.

“Please, just Arthur is fine.” Arthur smiled his charming, I’m-stunning-and-i-know-it smile. “It’s lovely to see you again Hunith.”

Hunith chuckled and held open the front door. “Why don’t you boys come in?”

“Wait! Arthur’s not actually… who I meant you should see.” Merlin smiled sheepishly.

His mother, well accustomed to Merlin’s ways, merely raised her eyebrows and waited. Merlin poked his head back around the corner and gestured Balinor forward. His father swallowed loudly and slowly walked to his side, and after a moment’s hesitation, rounded the corner.

His mother gasped when she saw him, and Merlin caught her mouthing his name before her hand covered her mouth. She glanced at him, wondering if he _knew_, and Merlin tightened his jaw and nodded.

“Hello Hunith.” Balinor said, hesitant but hopeful.

Hunith closed her eyes for a brief moment. “Balinor.”

* * *

His mother and father had been talking for hours. Merlin and Arthur had been confined to the outside of the house, by the horses, as his parents talked. At first Merlin had distracted himself with taking care of his horse, brushing her sides down and feeding her all the treats he had, but very quickly he found himself with nothing to do. Arthur had taken his hand and sat with him by the side of the house, and together they talked about everything and nothing.

They were planning, in hushed tones, what their wedding would be like when his parents finally finished talking. They both agreed it would have to be small and quiet, somewhere away from Camelot and Uther. Arthur thought he might be able to convince Geoffrey to marry them without betraying them to Uther, but Merlin was doubtful. He thought it would be a much better idea to go to the druids, and Arthur hesitantly agreed – hesitantly because he wasn’t sure how the druids would react to the Prince of Camelot in their midst.

Merlin was in the middle of explaining, _again_, that the druids would welcome him as the Once and Future King when he heard his mother calling.

“Over here!” He called, scrambling up and out of Arthur’s lap.

He led Arthur inside, their fingers intertwined. Balinor was sat next to Hunith on the kitchen table, not close enough to touch but close enough that Merlin knew his mother wasn’t angry with him. Merlin and Arthur sat across from them, and Merlin shot them a hesitant smile.

“So?” He asked.

Hunith glanced at Balinor. “We’ve decided that Balinor will be staying in Ealdor.”

A grin split across Merlins face. “Here? With you?”

His mother swatted at him. “Merlin!”

Arthur snorted, very quietly, and Merlin could see how hard he was trying not to laugh. “I was only asking!”

His father groaned quietly, embarrassed, and his mother sent him a _look_. “Yes, he will be staying with me.”

His parents glanced at each other, something passing between them that Merlin couldn’t quite understand. He glanced at Arthur, grinning happily, and got a small smile in return. Arthur squeezed his hand gently as his parents started talking again, telling him their plans for the future.

* * *

“Mother?” Merlin whispered that night, turning towards her. “Are you awake?”

His mother, the only one lying on the bed, sighed. “I am.”

“There’s something I have to tell you.” His mother hummed. “It’s about Arthur.”

“What happened?” Merlin could hear the worry in her voice and rushed to reassure her.

“It’s nothing bad. He proposed.” His mother said nothing, so he hesitantly continued. “I said yes.”

There was a long pause before his mother spoke again. “You understand how dangerous it will be? For the both of you.”

Merlin swallowed. “We know.”

A hand cupped his cheek, and Merlin looked up to just barely make out his mother’s smile. “You’re happy with him?”

“I am.” He whispered.

“Then I’m happy for you.” She paused. “The both of you.”

Merlin smiled, tears springing to his eyes. “Thank you.”

* * *

Months passed. Merlin spent weeks in Ealdor, spending time with his parents, learning what it was to have a father as his father learned what it was to have a son. Merlin also learned what it was to be a dragonlord, and although his father was hesitant at first, Arthur soon joined them, on the days when he too would visit, and learnt what it was to be a dragon.

Balinor had been harsh and abrupt with Arthur for their first few meetings, refusing to believe him much better than Uther. Merlin had argued with him constantly, especially when he told him about their engagement, and he’d feared he’d loose his father so soon after finding him because of it.

Of course, that was when his mother had stepped in and spoken to his father. Merlin wasn’t sure what she had told him, but from then on Balinor made the effort to get to know Arthur, and within a few weeks the two were getting along better than Merlin could ever have hoped for.

Which was why, when they sent the message to his parents to meet them at the river by Balinor’s old cave, Merlin knew they would be there.

They had decided weeks ago that that would be the place where they would get married. Morgana had told Uther she wished to visit her father’s grave and spend a couple of days there, at the least, and Arthur had offered to escort her. Uther had reluctantly agreed, if only because he could very rarely say no to Morgana. Gaius claimed he heard of a village nearby that required his attention, and Uther had nodded his acceptance easily.

And so Merlin stood by the river, his friends and family around him, feeling a little ridiculous in his pure white clothes. Then Arthur walked up to his side, looking stunning in his matching cloak, and Merlin relaxed. The druid in front of them spoke of love and the future, of being bound forever, and before he knew it he was married to the man that he loved, a simple golden ring sat snugly on his finger. A matching ring was on Arthur’s finger, and Merlin’s heart warmed at the sight of them.

He turned to face Arthur and cupped his cheek. Arthur’s eyes fluttered closed as he leaned forward and accepted Merlin’s kiss.


	31. Day Thirty One: Return.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this oneshot: Modern Setting, Arthur Pendragon Returns, immortal Merlin, marriage proposal.

Merlin woke and knew that today was the day.

He wouldn’t be able to explain it, if anyone had asked. There was no great sign – not one that he could see from his bedroom window, at least. His magic wasn’t any different, though perhaps it was a little lighter, a little happier in his veins, but he didn’t notice. He simply knew, the way he knew the sky was blue and the ground beneath him was solid.

Today was the day.

He pulled on his jacket – the blue one with golden swirls on the sleeves, his latest favourite – and grabbed a random scarf. It was a pale red, almost a pink, and it didn’t really go with his jacket at all, but Merlin wasn’t worried. He didn’t need to impress anyone today, and anyone he might want to impress would not care about his clothes.

Merlin walked through town slowly, greeting the people he knew, and even some that he didn’t. Most were cheerful in greeting him back before going on with their day. Some ignored him, or gave him odd looks, especially when Merlin simply continued grinning and humming as he walked.

Today was the day.

He wondered out of town and through the trees, letting his magic rein free. Flowers bloomed everywhere he looked, trees grew thicker, sturdier as he past them, and a flock of birds flew by, so close that if he wanted he could have reached up his hands and caught them. He didn’t, and instead continued steadily on.

His pace quickened when he reached the waterside. It was as beautiful as ever, the waters reflecting the sky above perfectly. And it was still, as if it weren’t water at all but glass, a mirror placed in the ground to reflect the endless sky.

It wasn’t, Merlin knew. It was very much water, and it was very important.

He sat, right at the very edge of the water, close but not close enough to touch. He stared out at the water, unmoving, as his magic stretched out as far as it could go, searching.

He would be missed today, that he knew. He had promised to visit several of his friends, but that wasn’t going to happen now. But this was something Merlin couldn’t miss, _wouldn’t_ miss, not for the world. He would fight the gods themselves if they dared try to move him from his spot.

Today was the day.

He sat for hours, magic searching and protecting him from the stiffness that would surely be settling in his bones by now. The moon began to rise, and still he sat, waiting. He’d sat here for days, months, _years_ once before. He could wait. His magic was still searching, as strong as when it had begun, and Merlin felt it strengthen as his excitement grew.

Then, something.

Merlin gasped as his magic brushed against something, something powerful and old and unknown to this world for so long even Merlin had begun to forget what it felt like. But he remembered now, vividly, and stood on shaking legs.

The stars formed a sword, the tip of it facing downward and touching the water of the lake.

Now. The time was now.

Merlin flung himself into the water, wading through it faster than should be possible. That wasn’t unusual. Merlin was used to doing impossible things. He was less used to _seeing_ impossible things, however, so he kept his eyes focused on the sword in the sky – and on the tip, where star met water.

Following it became difficult the closer he got, but it didn’t matter.

He could see the silhouette of the man waiting for him. The man he had been waiting for, patiently, and for so long now. He was swimming towards Merlin, too, dressed in white, golden hair shining almost white in the moonlight.

Merlin had forgotten what it looked like, and near cried at the reminder.

When they reached each other, they crashed. Their arms locked around each other, neither willing to let go, and Merlin was sure he was crying even as he laughed from the sheer _joy_ of it all. His magic kept them afloat, somehow, without his conscious thought, and Merlin let his entire being sag into the embrace.

“_Merlin_.”

It was whispered directly into his ear, hoarse and rough but full of wonder and hope. It made him shiver and let another round of tears fall down his cheeks, because _that voice._ Oh gods, how he’d missed that stupid, prattish voice.

Arthur chuckled and pushed Merlin back, just enough so that they could look at each other – and look they did. Merlin studied the man before him more than he’d studied anyone else, looking for signs of a trap, a dream, and finally, for any injuries. He hadn’t done this in hundreds of years, but it felt so natural it didn’t matter.

“_Arthur_.” Merlin whispered, hands cupping Arthur face.

Arthur closed his eyes and leaned into him, trusting his entire being to Merlin’s hands.

_Thank you_.

The two words circled around in his head for the first time in decades. He spun them around, as he had thousands of times before, searching for their hidden meaning. And always, always, he came to the same gut wrenching, life changing conclusion.

“I love you too.” He whispered, causing Arthur’s eyes to snap open in shock.

Then the shock melted into happiness and Arthur whooped as he spun Merlin around, the both of them laughing. It felt good, it felt _right_, and Merlin couldn’t stop himself, even if he had wanted to.

“Marry me?” He asked, quietly, as Arthur set him down.

Arthur frowned, and Merlin hated it, so he gathered all the courage he had collected over his thousand years roaming the earth and kissed him. Again and again and again, until Arthur’s protests melted away like snow under the summer sun.

They had to talk, of course they did. And they would, eventually. But for now, Merlin contented himself with kissing Arthur senseless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's done! Thank you everyone for reading and enjoying, and for being so patient with me. I know this series is long since overdue, but I'm just happy (and proud!!!) that I finished all thirty one parts of this. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Come follow me on [Tumblr](https://cupcakezys.tumblr.com/) if you want to hear more from me. :)


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